Show Me Right
by truglasgowgal
Summary: Three years after leaving the UES, she was back to claim what was rightfully hers. Every one knows maternity’s a matter of fact, while paternity’s merely a matter of opinion. And opinion was always on her side. CB. Future fic.
1. Prologue: Expectations

Hey there!  
This is just a wee something I started a few hours ago, and thought I'd post it - my muse is running overtime here so I figure I best make the most of it while I can ;)  
Enjoy...

* * *

**Title:** Show Me Right  
**Disclaimer:** The only thing I own is the character  
**Summary:** Three years after leaving the UES, she was back to claim what was rightfully hers. Every one knows maternity's a matter of fact, while paternity's merely a matter of opinion. And opinion was _always_ on her side. CB. Future fic.

.

"_Other things may change us, but we start and end with family."  
**Anthony Brandt**_

.__

Prologue: Expectations

.

_"No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished?"_  
**_Elbert Hubbard_**

.

She watched him: hunched over the counter, elbow's resting on the bar, right hand encased securely around that ever-present glass of amber liquid swirling inside. And then she saw the tall, skinny, blonde approach him; that hungry look in her eyes, suggestions in her hips.

He rolled his head to the side and eyed the woman who'd just taken a seat on the stool beside him. She watched his eyes as they dipped before rising again; surveying the female, and saw a smirk appear as her lips moved.

_Some things never change_, she thought to herself bitterly, and scoffed at the notion that she could ever expect otherwise, as she turned her head and prepared to leave.

But what she saw next stopped her, made her rethink that last errant belief; fingers wrapped around her clutch, heels held firm against the floor.

His smirk grew and he leaned in to murmur a few choice words of his own; all the while with his hand raised, and his thumb fingering a small silver jewel on his second outermost digit.

Apparently, things had changed after all.

.

She watched her: running up the steps, flinging her arms around lifelong friends, beaming at them as she recounted tales of holiday events.

Her long hair gleamed in the sunshine, and her loose curls bounced with each step she took: her eyes dancing and as bright and playful as the expression on her face.

It occurred to her then that she was settled, and happy, and… apparently in love.

Her eyes followed the other, moments later: standing near a young male, the coy smile spread across her lips as _his_ lips spoke words that her heart seemed to skip a beat to.

Fingers threaded themselves through the curls at the nape of his neck, and her tiptoes raised her that extra inch or two that her heels couldn't provide, as her face drew closer and closer to his, until he finally pulled her flush against him and their lips met. A smirk and a grin molded together.

Things had definitely changed.

.

She watched them.

He was waiting for her outside, and when she appeared her eyes instantly caught on his and she moved straight towards him.

He smirked at her, still leaning leisurely against the side of his limo, and she beamed in response; throwing her arms around his neck and falling into his open embrace with an ease and a familiarity that even someone who had spent years perfecting the art, couldn't quite pull off.

And as she watched Chuck Bass embrace their daughter, she decided that it really was good to be home.

Family had always meant so much to her; and she was back to claim what was rightfully hers.

After all, every one knows maternity's a matter of fact, while paternity's merely a matter of opinion.

And opinion was _always_ on Blair Bass's side.

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

I hope this wasn't too confusing! :S  
Basically: First part was Blair watching Chuck. Second part was Blair watching their daughter. And third part was Blair watching Chuck and their daughter.

This came to me earlier, and I decided to type it out, see if I could get it to lead anywhere.  
I'm _notoriously_ bad at posting things when the idea appears and running with them, only hit a block about half-way through or so and have to put them on hiatus, annoyingly.  
However, due to my newfound ability to keep posts and updates somewhat consistent and regular with '_Through Mist & Elegance'_ (feel free to check it out if you so desire ;) ) I'm just gonna wing it here, and post this and hopefully try and do the same for this as I'm doing for that.  
Though, word of warning: if updates dwindle off slightly in a few weeks (if it lasts that long ;) ) it's only because Uni has started back up and I'm adjusting, and it should go back to normal soon after.

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	2. Revisiting the Past

A/N: Bold type is for memories/flashback  
Oh, and word to note, just like many other people's names. Chuck's daughter's stems various shortened versions or nicknames from others. Hopefully it shouldn't be too confusing, I reckon it'll be easy enough to tell when I'm talking about her – don't worry ;)

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Chapter One: Revisiting the Past

_"In each family a story is playing itself out, and each family's story embodies its hope and despair."_  
**_Auguste Napier_**

.

Chuck Bass was sitting at his desk when the doors to his office swung open. His attention was still on the files on his desk, completely engrossed with the words that promised him maximum return on his business if he invested, when he spoke, "Jessica, I thought I told you I didn't want to be disturbed by anyone."

His tone left no room for argument: except one.

"Wife of the boss sort of overrules that, wouldn't you say?" she quipped, and watched as his eyes dragged slowly upwards to meet her.

"Blair," he let out.

"One and the same." She gave him a smile, cocking her head to the side slightly. "Hello Chuck."

He drew himself up, and walked around to the front of his desk to stand before her. She saw the change in his demeanor then, his stiffened stance, his set look, the slight twitch in his jaw.

He drank in her appearance, because her appearance mere feet away from him changed everything. And everything would soon be blown to Hell.

Her hair was shorter, by quite a considerable amount; cut into a stylish bob-shape, that fell to her jaw and swept along the line. Her eyes were different too, still as piercing and stunning as ever, but they seemed to have faded to a dull chocolate.

He wasn't used to this: seeing her like this. He was used to long curls he could thread his fingers through, rich mahogany eyes he could get lost in forever. He was used to being able to see his daughter in every expression, every movement. He was used to seeing his wife in his dreams. He wasn't used to this.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, almost instinctively.

"What? Can't I drop in and see my husband while he's at work?" the brunette asked innocently.

"Not when the last time I _left_ for work in your presence, you walked out our front door and never returned," Chuck gritted out.

"Until now," Blair added.

"Until now," he conceded.

"Which brings us back to my previous question. _What_ are you doing here, Blair?" He demanded of her once more.

"I – "

And that was when she faltered.

That was when Blair seemed to fall in stature, face contorting, voice softening, words failing her.

"I missed you," she breathed out earnestly. "I've missed both of you _so_ much."

He clenched his fists by his sides, fingernails biting into skin; it was all he could to stop himself holding out his arms and folding her into his embrace.

Instead he posed his next question. "Where have you been this whole time, Blair?"

"I've been… I've been in France," she finally let out.

Chuck nodded his head, releasing his hands from their grip and raising his finger to touch his lip reflectively, "I see, I see."

The female nodded in return, "Yes, France."

And then he suddenly met her eyes and bit out harshly, "Well, that's just fucking _wonderful_, isn't it, Blair? I mean, France! Of _all_ places?"

"My father didn't know my whereabouts, Chuck," she assured him. "It just felt – safe."

Chuck rounded on her once more at that. "Safe?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, and scoffed at her blank expression.

"Isn't that what your _family_ is supposed to be, Blair? Safe?" he challenged her lackluster reply. "Isn't that what _you're_ supposed to provide for your daughter? Safety?"

She frowned, and he resumed his pacing, a weary hand running across his face, his jaw twitching once again.

"God, Blair, what did you _expect_ would happen, hmm?" he questioned.

The anger, the _hurt_, he was feeling was unmistakable in his tone.

"That you'd waltz back in and simply resume your place at the dinner table the same evening? That we'd welcome you with open arms as if nothing had ever happened, as if you hadn't just upped and left us without even so much as a goodbye or an explanation, _three years ago_?" he demanded. "I mean, _Jesus_, Blair – what the Hell?"

"I – I – " she stammered, once again, unsure of what to say.

"Why there? Why now? Why did you leave? Why didn't you even tell us where you were going? Just – why?" Chuck questioned then, his voice dipping lower.

He brought his hands up to his face and ran them across, fingers digging into skin.

"I can't do this Blair, I just – "

"She doesn't know I'm back," the female cut in then.

"I know," Chuck merely responded, head bowed.

She felt her brow crinkle slightly, and he raised his eyes to look at her.

"There's a reason I'm number one on her speed-dial, Blair," he commented with a wry quirk of his lips.

"Oh," was all she voiced in response to that, and he nodded.

"I think you'd better go," he told her after a few moments. "I just – I need time to process all this, Blair. And I can't do that while you're standing there looking at me like that, especially when your mouth is saying nothing I want to hear right now. So…"

"I'm staying at my mother's," she informed him.

"I'll be over after work to discuss – " he cut himself off, and she simply nodded, turning to leave.

She stopped when she reached the door, fingers wrapped round the handle. Turning to meet his gaze she told him, "I never stopped loving you both."

And when the door clicked shut, he fell back into his seat with a sigh; running his hands over his face, and dragging in a ragged breath.

After a few moments, Chuck leaned forward and rested his elbows on the rich mahogany, reaching out a hand to press the button on his phone that connected him to his secretary.

"Jessica, cancel any appointments for today. I'll be out of the office," he told her, words clear and crisp.

He needed to have a little talk with his family.

First stop: sister dearest. No, scratch that, first stop: little brother. Eric could help him coax Serena into giving him the answers he wanted, in case his own persuasive efforts somehow lost their way.

And then he needed to have a chat with his daughter. Not a conversation he was looking forward to. Because there would be questions, that only one person could provide the answers to; and it wasn't him.

He walked purposefully over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of scotch. Swirling the liquid, he stared into it for a moment before downing it in one go, and moving to pour another.

Well, he could hardly be expected to meet Blair without it? The woman had a way of breaking him, he needed all the help he could get. Dutch courage and all that.

.

"**Daddy," was the first word when he picked up his cell, not even bothering to look at the Caller I.D. presuming it simply to be his wife.**

"**Evie?" Chuck asked.**

**His brow fell into a frown as soon as his mind processed his daughter's voice on the other end of the line, and he looked up from his work to the hands of the clock on the far wall.**

"**What's wrong?" he questioned instantly.**

"**Nothing," she rebuffed him. "Nothing's happened."**

**He smirked at that. "Glad to know my checkbook's safe for the moment."**

**He imagined the teenager rolling her eyes, as she replied in her typical nonchalant manner, "Whatever, old man."**

**Her father chuckled lightly, asking, "So, to what do I owe you for this phone call."**

"**Can you send a car?" Eve requested, after a moment.**

"**Sure," Chuck replied easily, then stopped short. "Wait, isn't your mother there?"**

"**No," was the answer.**

"**She said she'd pick you up after training," her father said.**

"**Yeah, I know what she said, but she's not here," was the teenager's flippant response. "And for the record: she's been saying a lot of things lately."**

"**Did you try calling her?" Chuck inquired, trying to rack his brain for a reason why his wife hadn't picked their daughter up when she said she would.**

**He chanced another look at the clock and saw that she was more than half an hour late. That, in itself, was slightly worrying: Blair didn't _do_ tardiness.**

"**Don't I always?" Eve answered, with something akin to a soft sigh marring her words.**

"**And she didn't pick up?"**

"**Nope."**

"**Ok," her father relented. "Carl will be there soon."**

"**Thanks Daddy," the teenager replied, and he smiled.**

**He was about to hang up when his daughter's voice picked up again.**

"**Dad?"**

"**Yeah, Evie?" he responded, the smile still curving his lips as he heard his daughter's tone; she wanted something.**

"**When I called mom's phone, it said the service was no longer in use," Eve told him, and then paused. "That's not… normal, is it?"**

"**No, it's not," her father replied after a moment, releasing a soft sigh.**

"**Ok, I'm worried, Daddy," his daughter let out. "Should I be worried?"**

"**I'll be with you in ten," Chuck told her then.**

"**Alright, I'm _definitely_ worried now," the teenager said, apprehension spiking in each word.**

"**Just stay on the line, Evie, I'll be with you soon," her father said.**

"**I'm scared, Daddy," Eve confessed. "What if something's happened?"**

"**You'll be fine," Chuck assured her. "Just stay with me."**

.

Chuck fingered the silver edging of the frame, a fond wistful smile touching his lips as he stared down at the image of his daughter.

Evangeline Bass, or Eve as she was more widely known, was seventeen, a senior at Constance-Billard, and the top of her class. She was also Queen B around those parts; but things were a little different than when her mother reigned supreme, because Eve had a little bit of Serena van der Woodsen in her, as her uncle liked to quip. Her father, however, merely saw the 'wild' side that her mother used to try to suppress shining through.

Essentially, she was Chuck Bass's daughter.

And when she found out that her mother was back, after three years of no contact, well, needless to say he'd be needing back-up. She always did have a soft spot for her Aunt Serena; and he planned to use this to his own advantage. After all, he could replace the ornaments and furniture she destroyed; what he couldn't replace was his daughter.

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

Answers will appear as the story progresses, some sooner than others, obv ;) So hopefully you can stick with me on this one as it pans out. It's a little different from my other fics, but hopefully you'll like it.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think - it means alot!  
Steph  
xxx


	3. Ready Or Not?

Chapter Two: Ready or Not?

"_Having children makes you no more a parent than having a piano makes you a pianist."  
**Michael Levine**_

.

Apparently Serena was as surprised by her best friend's return as her husband, not having been in contact with her for the same amount of time; even Eric hadn't heard anything, and he was usually one of the first to know about such… events.

"I honestly had no idea she was coming back, Chuck," his sister told him. "Hell, I didn't even know where she was these past three years!"

"I swear to _God_, Serena, if I find out you knew something – " he growled.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed. "You _know_ I wouldn't do that to Eve, or you. I'm as much in the dark here as you are, believe me."

"I know, it's just – well, I had hoped you could shed some light on her reappearance," Chuck then admitted.

"How? By swapping tales of old, and sifting through every minute detail in our past conversations to try and pick up on some clue as to why she left in the first place? Nevermind actually decided to return?" Serena asked with a raised eyebrow.

It was true. No amount of analyzing had helped them before, and it was doubtful it would this time either. It turned out that Blair was as good at hiding as Chuck was locating; and in three years he hadn't found more than a trace of where she'd gone or the reason behind her sudden departure. And so he'd been forced to move on, he and Eve, together; without her. It'd been just the two of them for so long, that Chuck actually feared what Blair's return might do to them.

"Where's she staying? The Palace?" his sister asked then. He raised his eyebrows at her on that note, and she ducked her head, muttering, "Right, of course not."

"She's staying at her mother's," Chuck told her simply.

"Oh, so, are we going over there or – "

"Yes, Serena, we're going over there; give me a few minutes – maybe? Yes?" he replied tightly. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly jumping at the chance to see Blair again, but having your wife abandon you and your child to fly off to another country without even so much as a farewell will do that to you."

"Look, Chuck, I know this is hard, ok? But – " Serena started.

"No, it's not ok. She might be your best friend, and you might feel hurt that she left and didn't tell you, but she's my _wife_, Serena, she's the mother of my child – and that betrayal runs deeper than anything you could muster up ever will."

He was breathing hard and when he stopped he took one look at his sister's face, before flopping down on the couch and running his hands over his face, groaning.

"I wish she'd never come back," he stated then.

"You don't mean that," Serena said gently, taking a seat beside him. "You know you – "

"What I _know_," Chuck cut in, "is that fantasies don't make reality. And no matter how much I might've wished for this in the past, I never took into account that it would actually happen; years down the line, and after Eve and I had finally got ourselves sorted; settled."

"She always did have impeccable timing," Eric offered, giving them a small smile from his place next to them and Chuck muttered his agreement.

"It's not so much what I'm going to say to her; it's how I'm going to explain it all to Evie that's getting to me," he admitted then.

Serena placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, telling him softly, "You'll be fine. She's a smart kid, and she loves you. No matter what happens."

Chuck nodded, his head bowed, and almost so they couldn't hear he confessed, "I can't lose her too."

Almost.

.

The three siblings arrived at the Waldorf penthouse as one. The elevator door opening to reveal the large marble foyer, and as they stepped inside Blair came bustling in to greet them.

They all meandered their way over to the living area and took up a place on the myriad of couches.

"So, Blair, what's this really about?" Chuck cut straight to the point.

"What do mean, what's this _really_ about?" Blair demanded in return. "I have to have an ulterior motive to move back to my home? To want to see my husband and daughter?"

"Yes," was the short answer.

"This is unbelievable!" the brunette exclaimed. "You haven't even let me explain."

"So, explain," Chuck told her. "Tell me why you've been unreachable for the past three years? Why you, effectively, fell off the face of the earth? Tell me _why_ I had to inform my daughter that her mother had left us, that I had no idea why she had gone, or where, only that she had?"

His jaw was set, determination in his eyes; he wasn't backing down from this fight.

"And it damn well better be worth you coming back here, threatening to upset our lives, Blair, or so help me I will send you back on a goddamn plane to France and never so much as mention your reappearance to Eve," Chuck told her, blatantly serious.

"I couldn't cope," she said then, her voice small and timid.

"Couldn't cope with what?" he growled out: Serena and Eric remaining silent.

"Everything," she offered.

She met his eyes, palms up as they rested on her knees, and she leaned forward.

"I – everything just got to be too much," Blair expanded. "I went to the doctor and I tried the pills, but nothing was helping and – I just didn't know what to do."

"So you thought high-tailing it to France would be a suitable cure, did you?" Chuck asked scathingly.

"You have to understand – " She started to say, but she was cut off.

"No, I don't," Chuck bit out. "I don't have to understand anything, Blair. _You_ have to understand that what's happening here is a courtesy call, nothing more."

His eyes bore into hers, and silence filed the air for some minutes, before Blair finally nodded, conceding, "Alright. Then let me try to explain as best I can."

She saw Chuck and knew he wanted to interrupt with some sarcastic remark, but he didn't, and that little fact alone almost made her frown and demand to know why. However, she merely averted her gaze, and appealed to his siblings for empathy instead, eyes darting to his for a reaction every so often when need be.

"My head was all over the place," she began by way of explanation. "I used to go home and see you and Evangeline and you'd be so happy, and you'd fit so seamlessly together; as if there was nothing holding you up, you just _were_. And then I'd look at myself, and I'd be such a mess. I could barely function, and I know you both noticed, but whenever you mentioned something I'd brush it off as your paranoia, even though I knew it was anything but."

They were giving her the civility of silence while she spoke, but that was all they were giving her.

"You were right," she offered Chuck with a small semblance of a smile. "I really was a scatterbrain."

She cleared her throat, broke the moment that didn't really have the chance to exist and continued on.

"I was barely sleeping, and what with all the pills these supposed experts had me on I could hardly think coherently either."

"And yet, somehow, you managed to board a plane out of the United States and start a new life in Europe?" Chuck broke in then, eyeing her.

"It wasn't like that," her voice was nearly a whisper.

"Then, tell me, Blair, what was it like?" he beseeched her. "Because all I'm hearing right now is confirmation of what I already knew at the time. That you weren't happy, and that you were so drugged up that you could barely think straight."

His voice was hoarse by the end, and she knew she was doing a number on his insides; could well imagine all the feelings, unresolved, resurfaced, colliding as one.

"Tell me that was all it was."

And it was suddenly Chuck's turn to plead, as he sat forward and looked straight into his wife's eyes.

"Tell me you didn't know what you were doing when you left, that you didn't realize you were flying to another country, that you didn't know it would turn out like this."

"I didn't," Blair admitted, her own words breaking as tears sprang to her eyes. "I didn't know it would turn out like this."

She watched him as he prepared to take a slow breath of quiet relief, if only to put to rest one concern that has been plaguing him these last three years.

She tore her gaze from his and allowed the words to spill painfully from her lips, "But I knew what I was doing when I left, and I was fully aware that I had boarded a plane to France."

She didn't have to look at her husband to see the hurt flash across his face.

"I just didn't realize it would take me so long to find my way back," Blair told him, and her eyes were on his once more.

"Jesus, Blair," Chuck let out, tearing himself away from her presence.

He stood and immediately began to pace the room, a hand running wearily over his face.

"How can you – ?" he started, and then stopped. "What do you want me to say to that? How could you think I'd be ok with that?"

"I didn't – I don't," Blair stammered. "But I thought you'd at least trust in me enough to know that I would never do something like that if I felt I had any other option."

"I trust in you enough, Blair, to know when you're lying to me," Chuck bit out then.

"Unfortunately, Chuck, I'm not lying," she returned, with something close to regret in her words.

"Well, I don't believe you," he dismissed brusquely. "And until you prove to me that your actions were truly those of a desperate woman, who beyond any doubt felt she had nothing else to turn to but that option, I can't let you near Eve."

"What?" Blair questioned, suddenly sobering at those words.

"I won't allow you to see Eve, Blair. Not now I know you still can't tell me the truth," he reiterated.

"You can't do that!" the brunette cried out, standing up from her own seat.

"I won't let you put my daughter through that, Blair. She needs answers, and if you're not ready to give them to her, then I can't let you see her," Chuck told her firmly. "Not until you can give her what she needs."

"I'm her mother!" Blair exclaimed then. "I gave _birth_ to her! I raised her!"

"And then you abandoned her for three years without so much as even a goodbye!" he snarled.

"Look," Eric's calming voice broke through, his arms stretched out to separate the two, as well as to reel them into what he was saying; the estranged couple stood opposite one another, eyes ablaze with a mix of fury and determination.

The youngest of the group cast a glance over to his sister, who was now standing on the sidelines, arms crossed over her chest defensively and eyes darting back and forth between her older brother and her best friend.

"No one's arguing science here, Blair. We all _know_ you're her mother. Hell, even a deaf, blind and mute man could probably work that one out," Eric stated, watching her carefully. "What we're saying: is if you still have the right to be?"

.

They were still in a stand-off when a ding of the elevator echoed off the walls, the sound of keys and plastic hitting the side table and bags dropping to the floor resounding as loudly in the air as the call of, "Dad?"

The voice carried through as her steps advanced towards them all: "I know you're here, I saw the limo outside."

"Listen, we need to talk. I've been ringing your phone off the hook, and for some reason _completely_ unbeknownst to me you're not answering; but I just heard something really strange and – "

They all froze, eyes darting from one to another, and before anyone had time to question her presence, Evangeline Bass appeared before them.

Her eyes seemed to rise skyward, and her grasp on the bag by her side gripped instinctively harder, as she choked out, "_Mom_?"

And just like that everything went to Hell.

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

This story is ongoing, so there's still much more to come, both past and present, so hope you stay tuned :)

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought of it - much appreciated, as always ;)  
Steph  
xxx


	4. Did I Miss Something?

Chapter Three: Did I Miss Something?

"_If you don't believe in ghosts, you've never been to a family reunion."  
**Ashleigh Brilliant**_

.

"Mom?" Eve choked out.

And it was like the moment between heartbeats. The space where nothing happened. Where the blood slowed in your veins, your breath caught and your mind spun into that huge blank space of unreality.

"Hi – Hi, Sweetheart," Blair managed to get out, along with a smile.

Anything further seemed to catch in the teenager's throat as she watched her mother through huge, brimming eyes and an indescribable expression.

"Evie," her father moved towards her instantly, while Blair and everyone else seemed rooted to the spot, inwardly cursing the moment he decided to turn his phone to silent before this 'discussion' took place.

"You're – you're really here," the younger brunette stated.

All her mother could do was nod.

"This is insane," Eve declared. "This – I don't know what's going on here, but – I can't deal with this right now, I – I need to go."

And the teenager promptly turned on her heel and walked out.

She had just picked up her keys from the dash, and was juggling the numerous bags in her grasp while trying to wrestle with the button for the elevator, when a hand on the wood paneling stopped her.

"Don't take another step," her father's firm voice instructed.

His daughter turned her head slowly round to face him.

"What've I told you about driving when your emotions are awry?" Chuck questioned sternly, prying the keys from her grasp.

She nodded, looking down, and replied, "I know, I'm sorry, I just – it's a shock, you know?"

She met her father's eyes, and saw that his face had softened at the edges, though worry still etched its way into certain places.

"Take the limo to Christopher's, and I'll be over to pick you up soon," he told her.

She offered him a grateful smile and he took it, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her forehead.

"We'll talk about this together when we're home."

Eve nodded and did as she was told, leaving the apartment under her father's ever-watchful eye.

.

Blair turned to Serena at this; questions in her eyes.

"Christopher Kingston. Her boyfriend," was the simple reply.

The brunette raised her eyebrows at this. "And Chuck's _ok_ with them?"

"As ok as he'll ever be," Eric answered, with a wry smile. "He's good for her, and he looks after her, and Chuck couldn't ask for anything more for Eve. The boy loves her."

"Chuck can't say no to her anymore than he could to you," Serena expanded.

That small remark caused a pang in Blair's chest as a stream of memories flooded her conscience. He'd loved her so much.

"And besides, she tried to keep it a secret when it started; which only succeeded in Chuck inviting Chris over for dinner and demanding to know what his intentions were with his daughter."

"Was quite amusing to say the least," her brother quipped, and the siblings shared a reminiscent smile.

"And she drives?" Blair asked then, with a raise of the eyebrow.

"You can blame your best friend for that one," Chuck's voice broke in.

"Serena?" the brunette turned to look between the two, as Chuck walked into the room and joined them once more.

"Yes, somehow convinced me to buy Evie a car for her _Sweet Sixteen_," he rolled his eyes at this and sent a look at the grinning blonde. "And to have her learn to drive stick too, of all things. I swear you're trying to relive your childhood through her," he directed at his sister with a mock-exasperated sigh.

The blonde simply rolled her eyes and clucked her teeth at such a suggestion.

"Now I can't get her out the damn thing," he ended, sending a pointed look at his sister, who continued to beam at him in return.

"Then what was all that about just there?" Blair questioned. "Why did you make her take the limo?"

It was Chuck who spoke: "As much as I enjoy this share-and-care tête-à-tête we're currently indulging in, let's go back to our previous discussion, shall we?"

Eric had cleared his throat and Serena had averted her gaze and neither response had gone unnoticed by Blair, but she decided to pick her battles, and right now, this one wasn't going away.

She drew herself up and met her husband's steady gaze as he questioned, "What are you doing here? And don't say you've come back, I want to know why you're back, and what your intentions are?"

"I already told you why I'm back, Chuck. I missed you, both of you," she reiterated. "And as much as I know you're loathe to believe me," she shot him a look, "It's the truth. I missed you, and I felt it was the right time to come home."

"Right time for whom, Blair?" Chuck demanded. "Because up until you arrived here, we were doing quite well on our own."

"And I'm sorry for ever putting you in that position of doing it alone, Chuck; believe me, but I can't change the past. All I can do is try to be there for you, both, now," Blair told him.

Chuck eyed her for several long moments before dragging in a breath, and relenting, "I have a temperamental teenage daughter to deal with, and questions that won't cease to be answered until we talk, properly. I'll have my secretary call and set up a time for you to come by."

He turned to his siblings at that, effectively dismissing her.

"Serena, Eric, I'll see you both at dinner tomorrow night… Blair," his tone was clipped as he acknowledged her with a dip of the head.

And with that he turned and walked swiftly out of the room.

"Right," Eric clapped his hands together. "Now that I've successfully managed to prevent you two from killing one another, I have activities of my own to partake in. So, if you'll excuse me, I shall see you soon."

And with a bow of the head, he too left the room.

"So, you're back!" Serena exclaimed after a few tense moments of silence.

Blair just looked at her friend like she had two heads, and nodded, "Yes, Serena, I am."

"Well, this is cause for celebration then, no? How about we drop by my house, I can tell Dan what's going on and then you and I can celebrate your illustrious return. What do you say?"

"If we must," the brunette returned.

"Excellent!" Serena replied and immediately hooked her arm through Blair's leading her out the door.

She had a sneaking suspicion her best friend wasn't as blissfully happy to see her return as all that, but she decided to just go with it for the moment.

.

"Mom!" was the call as soon as the door shut behind them, and a figure bounded into the room, continuing on, "You'll never guess what I just read! It said Eva's mom was back and – Oh"

The little boy's face fell somewhat as his wide brown eyes settled on the two figures before him. He blinked, slowly.

"Hi," he offered feebly.

"Caleb," Serena smiled down at her son. "You remember your Aunt Blair; Uncle Chuck's wife?"

The brown-haired boy nodded, and after casting a quick glance at his mother only to see the brief, stern look she sent him, he struck out his hand and politely greeted her with: "Nice to see you again… Aunt Blair."

Blair nodded, and took his proffered hand, giving him a small smile as she did so. "Likewise, Caleb."

And just then the sound of a door slamming against its hinges behind them rang through the air, followed closely by the ranting: "I can't _believe_ she'd do that! I mean, it's not enough that she's spouting lies as she plays stalker to us day-in-day-out, she has to rehash one of the worst moments in our lives too!"

"Come on," a young male's voice joined her then. "You know what she's like. And besides, no one likes anything better than to see one of us lose it – Eve and you provide the best entertainment. And you know they'd do anything to see her fall again – It kills them that she's not constantly on uber-bitch autopilot… Not like someone I know."

That sly addition was followed by a dull thump and a muttered response of, "Oh, give over, already."

At that, an absolutely irate teenage girl burst through the threshold with a boy of similar appearance trailing behind her.

The long-haired blonde stopped short on sight of the two women standing next to her little brother, and her twin pulled up next to her; non-identical in all but their eyes.

"Oh," was the male's response to this, echoing his younger sibling mere moments prior.

His sister, however, already had her hand secured tightly on her hip, perfectly styled eyebrow raised, and expectant look on her face as she stated scathingly, "So, Gossip Girl was right then."

"For once," her twin muttered by her side.

"You really are back," she concluded, surveying the elder brunette in a completely apparent manner.

Blair nodded, and acknowledged, "Hunter. Melissa."

She took a step forward and smiled at them both, hoping for some transference from their mother's mood to theirs.

"You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you," she commented conversationally.

"Yes, well that's what tends to happen in three years. People grow up," Melissa told her, giving her a pointed look.

Serena broke in then, standing beside Blair and saying, "Alright, alright. That's enough. Now Blair is back, and it is not for you to judge the reasons for this or what happened in the past."

The blonde, gave her two eldest children a sharp look.

"She is one of my oldest friends, the mother of _your_ best friend, and she is still your Aunt," Serena continued. "And whether you like it or not, you will show her the respect she deserves."

"Pfft. Whatever," Melissa blew off, waving a dismissive hand as she drifted by them. "Let me know when Eve's forgiven you the Prodigal Mother act, then _maybe_ I'll treat you with a bit of respect."

"I apologize," Serena told her best friend. "Mel tends to be – difficult at times."

Blair nodded, understanding, and said nothing of it.

She raised her head then and was met the deep blue eyes of her best friend's eldest son.

"She's only difficult when circumstances need her to be – she's not ready to deal with another Eve Bass Meltdown, not when E's been doing so well lately," Hunter said, with too much resignation for a boy so young; a jaded look on his face.

At that he tossed his mother his cell phone, and walked by them to join his sister.

Serena looked down at the screen, and involuntarily released a gasp at the words, and the photo accompanying them as her eyes scanned over the screen:

**Word has reached my ears of a certain member of old royalty gracing our very own Met steps: Queen _B_ that is; the original Queen of these parts, and mother of our very own Heiress E.  
Watch out people, we all know what happened last time there was a sighting of Blair Waldorf.  
I advise walking to your destination today; the streets are alive with the sound of E's tires a-screeching.  
Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**You know you love me.  
****XOXO  
****Gossip Girl**

And underneath the caption was the horrific image of a destroyed black Mercedes convertible, or what was left of it at least, anyway. The windscreen was shattered, colored red, the bonnet and side crushed beyond recognition and amidst it all a small head could be seen; hanging limply off to the side, hair mangled, and face contorted under bloody slices of skin.

"I tried to tell you it was bad," a small voice mentioned then.

The blonde let her hand fall from her mouth to ask her youngest, "Where did you see this?"

The nine-year-old shrugged. "It's all over the internet."

"Oh God," Serena let out.

"What?" Blair questioned. "Serena, what is it? What aren't you telling me?"

"Caleb, go and play in the other room," the blonde instructed her son.

"But – " the boy tried to protest, but cut himself off at his mother's warning stare and slinked off out of the foyer.

Serena strode over to one of the couches in the nearest seating area and sat down, followed moments later by Blair, who took a seat across from her.

"Serena," she caught her best friend's attention, grabbing her hands. "What's wrong?"

"Last year, something happened," the blonde started. "To Eve."

"What? What was it? Was she ok?" Blair rattled off the questions, frantic for an answer.

Serena shook her head, bowing it momentarily as she explained. "There was an apparent sighting of you in Connecticut. And Nate was nowhere to be found."

The brunette gave an audible intake of breath, "But I wasn't – We didn't – "

The blonde nodded. "I know, but it was reported that you had been seen on home soil; first on Gossip Girl, then on other sites. Chuck couldn't get through to Nate to confirm or deny it, though he suspected it was false Intel. Eve tried to play it all off under an air of nonchalance, but she couldn't last long. And when she started getting constantly hounding at school, she tore out of there."

"Oh God," Blair breathed out. "Please – tell me nothing bad happened to her."

Serena shook her head once more; her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Mel went after her, but she lost her in the traffic. She called Chuck, but before he could even make it down there – Nate appeared later that day, went straight to Chuck's office to apologize for any misunderstandings and to tell him he'd been visiting his mother all day in the Resting Home which was why he was unreachable, but – " the blonde took another direction. "It was too late. The damage was done."

Blair already dreaded what was to come, but there was no way to stop it, no way to undo the past, the blonde was right; the damage was done.

Serena met her best friend's eyes as she told her tearfully, "Eve ran a red light and was hit full force from the side. The car rolled over three times before it came to a stop in the middle of the junction – She didn't wake up for three days."

Blair had track lines down her own cheeks then, crying for her little girl, because if she'd been there, she would've been able to protect Eve; if she'd been there, it would never have happened in the first place.

"But she's ok now, isn't she?" the brunette managed to choke out.

Serena nodded. "It took a while, but she recovered, and she's ok, yeah. She's _been_ ok, for a while."

The memories were fading in her best friend's eyes, Blair could see, but she still retained that solemn look.

"So I'm sure you can understand everyone's trepidation at your return, B," the blonde said to her. "We each have our reasons, but at the end of the day, we're trying to do what's best for Eve."

She nodded, looking more repentant than ever. "I'm sorry."

Serena moved to her side, and took Blair in her arms as she cried mascara tears into her best friend's chest, breaking down with the words.

"I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

A/N: The second line in this, was inspired by a small section in the book 'Marshmallows for Breakfast'

Apologies if you feel this story's moving too slowly or whatever, but I want it to be quite well-rounded, and besides, I can't just jump into the B/C/E stuff – gotta flesh it out a bit before hand, get some substance to use and whatnot ;)

Also, figured I'd add in a nextgen Gossip Girl for moments like this, and to add a little spice in in later parts no doubt ;)

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	5. Broken Hearts, Torn Up Letters

A/N: Title for this chapter comes from a Lostprophets song.

* * *

Chapter Four: Broken Hearts, Torn Up Letters And The Story Of A Lonely Girl

"_I could not point to any need in childhood as strong as that for a father's protection."  
__**Sigmund Freud**_

.

"I still can't believe you haven't made it down the aisle, you know," Blair commented to her best friend, as they sat on the couch facing once another, nursing their coffee mugs close in their embrace. "I would've thought, for sure, Humphrey would have got you proclaiming your love for him to the world with a ring on your finger and a nice '_Mrs_. Humphrey' to go with."

Mere moments before said Humphrey had walked by them, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets at the sight of Blair, sitting in his living room of all places; finally managing to exchange a few choice words with his _partner_ and her best friend before walking in the direction of his children's bedrooms.

"Yes, well, not for lack of trying on many sides, I assure you," Serena replied with a roll of the eyes.

A fond sparkle shone in her eyes as the blonde glanced across to the path Dan had just tread that didn't go unnoticed by Blair.

"But, I don't know, B," she told the brunette then, "I mean, I always thought that with Dan I could finally get that happy ending I'd always wanted, you know? But I guess now, I just feel I don't need a legal document to prove my love for him to everyone."

Blair watched her best friend for a moment as her fingers unconsciously twirled over her own wedding band, still present even after all their time apart; a matching ring on the blonde's second outermost finger of her left hand also – even if it wasn't legally binding. She rolled her shoulders, and found herself saying in response, "Fair enough, I suppose."

"I mean, we've been committed to one another since High School," Serena said. "And we have three amazing kids together. He's a wonderful husband and father, and I don't think I could go a day without hearing his voice, or seeing his face looking back at me."

Blair nodded, head bowed, a small, sad smile crossing her lips; neither broached the subject of this further.

Instead Serena shook the somber thoughts from her head and continued on with, "What more is there to say than that? And besides, I could shout 'I love Dan Humphrey' from the rooftops and to me; it would probably have a greater effect than someone _legally_ referring to us as husband and wife. Just look at my mom's track record before Bart."

She let out a laugh that reminded Blair so wonderfully of the years before this point that the brunette found herself feeling unbelievably grateful to have ever found a friendship with Serena when they were but children.

"I love him," the blonde said simply. "I know it, my kids know it, _he_ knows it. The people that matter to us know how much we love one another; so what else is there to say?"

Blair nodded, and a wistful smile crossed her lips, as she commented, "Who knew Serena van der Woodsen would become so philosophical in my absence?"

Serena rolled her eyes, giving her best friend a small shove as she replied, "Oh, hush you."

.

"_Mel?_" the voice cracked into the line. "Could you – ?"

"I need you – Could you come over?" was the request, letters breaking through words at such a rate that Melissa could hardly make out what was being asked of her.

It must have been her voice, Eve decided. Because her best friend didn't say anything, didn't ask her what had happened or why; just said she'd be with her in ten. And she was; she even brought cavalry.

.

"Where are you going?" Serena asked, as her two teenage children flew by them towards the door.

"To Eve's," was Melissa's simple reply.

She stopped beside them only because she wanted to have a few choice words with her _Aunt_ and could take the opportunity to slide her coat on at the same time.

And with a pointed look at Blair, she added, "It seems like your appearance, however brief, was enough to have an impact after all. So, I'm away to try and clean up _your_ mess and see if I can salvage some of my best friend back."

And with that she brushed by them and swept out of the room to join her brother, who was already waiting for her by the door.

Blair turned on Serena instantly, "Do you think I should – ? I mean, should I – ?"

"No," was the blonde's firm answer to her best friend's incoherent stuttering, and then her face softened as she explained, "Mel's going over there now, and Hunter'll be with her, and I'm sure Chuck has it under control."

The brunette scoffed at this, and wiped at her cheeks, while Serena scooted over.

"I know you'll probably hate me for saying this, but he's done really well with her, B," she said softly.

"You're right," Blair commented. "I do hate you for saying that."

But through her tears she managed a small smile, as Serena drew her into another warm embrace.

"She'll be ok, B," the blonde murmured into her best friend's hair. "She's strong. She'll get through this."

And all Blair could do was nod, and hope that this was indeed the case; because she had no idea how her daughter coped in her absence.

.

"Eve?" Melissa shouted as she quickly ascended the staircase. "Eve!"

When she reached the landing, she moved instantly to the right, feeling her brother's presence with her every step of the way as she advanced to her best friend's door, only to find a figure waiting outside.

They both stopped when they reached him and stilled when they saw the worry displayed across his face: it was a rare occurrence to see such a thing, and Melissa had been forced to bear witness too many times.

Her best friend's father met her gaze, placing a firm hand on each of her shoulders as he told her earnestly, "Listen, I don't care what she's done to the place; what's broken or smashed or anything. I just need to know she's ok."

Melissa looked into her Uncle's eyes, and was almost scared by the stark desperation held within. She nodded, and took a gulp.

He gave her a slight smile, grateful, and then released her, stepping back into the shadows as she progressed towards the door. Hunter stood back alongside him, knowing from experience that he should let his sister go this part alone.

Melissa raised her hand and knocked on the door, saying, "E, it's Mel. I need you to open the door for me, Sweetie."

"Don't call me that!" was the reply. "She called me that, and – She shouldn't have called me that – She – "

"I know, Eve, and I'm sorry she's back, and I'm sorry you're hurting because of it – but I need you to open the door for me," the blonde coaxed then. "Just let me inside so I can make sure you're ok."

She heard a faint sob from the space within and worried her lip at the thought of what state she'd find her best friend in when she was finally able to reach her.

Melissa broke slightly as she admitted, "You're scaring the Hell out of me here, Eve."

Moments later, and the door creaked open, and the faint outline of her best friend's face appeared, before it retreated to another part of the room.

Melissa cast a glance back at her Uncle Chuck then only to have him nod his head; the approval she, well, not _needed_, but the approval she felt she owed him, before she advanced into his daughter's room.

If she hadn't seen such things before she might have gasped at the sight. As it were, she merely released a soft breath and allowed the disheartening thought to enter her mind: not so much how one girl could cause so much damage; but how her life could harbor something that would make her do so.

Melissa walked purposefully across the room, ignoring the crunch of broken glass and the crackle of paper beneath her feet, and immediately took her place by her best friend's side, taking in her arms and letting her cry into her shoulder.

There would come a time when she would have to make her friend stand, help her meander her way through the maze of shattered dreams, return her to the safe and protective arms of her father; but this was not it.

For the moment the scattering of destroyed objects were forgotten, the smashed glass and mirrors didn't exist, and the mosaic of torn family images seemed like they'd always been that way.

Eve's sobs lowered to a mere whimper and soon she had succumbed to exhaustion. Melissa took the moment to look at her best friend. She reached over a hand and wiped the blood from her cheeks, rubbed some of the red into the dark brown of her eyebrow, tried to still the bleeding on the tip of her right ear with a slight pinch. And throughout it all, she pretended she couldn't imagine what could have been the outcome if her best friend hadn't been standing to the side when she sliced through the icicle lights display above her bed with a single purposeful swipe of her hockey stick.

And when Chuck Bass heard his daughter's cries still, heard the lull of his niece's voice speaking soothing words of calm, he breathed a sigh of relief; because he knew in that moment that she was safe.

.

He opened the door cautiously after what must've been only a handful of minutes later, and approached the pair with mild trepidation. Placing a hand on his niece's shoulder, he gently shook her.

Her eyes snapped wide and he was suddenly met with an ocean of blue. "I had the maids make up your rooms for you, you're staying with us tonight."

Melissa simply nodded and made a move to stand up, her brother by her side instantly to lend a hand; and the action simultaneous to her Uncle's as he bent down and easily scooped his daughter up, taking the moment to reposition her so as to prevent her from suffering any discomfort.

Eve roused, and her bleary eyes opened as her father's strong arms surrounded her.

"Daddy?" her voice came, rich and drowsy.

"It's alright, Evie, go back to sleep. I've got you," Chuck murmured against her skin, as he carried her across the broken threshold.

"You're safe, E. You're with your Dad," Melissa told her softly, stroking her best friend's hair and smiling gently down at her sleeping face.

When they reached the door to the blonde's room, they stopped: Hunter still supporting the tired weight of his sister.

Chuck gave them a nod; a look of complete gratitude displayed openly on his features as he said sincerely, his voice hoarse, "Thank you, for everything."

Melissa returned it with a smile and told him simply, "She's our best friend; we'd do anything for her. She's family."

And with a final look over at Eve's resting form, her brother opened the door to her room and led her inside, while Chuck continued down the hall.

That night, Eve Bass fell asleep in the arms of her father; one of the safest places she'd ever known.

.

"Alright, CK," Hunter's voice broke through the group of Seniors as he clapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder and grinned down at him as he joined him on the step below.

"You only call me that because you want people to think of you as Superman's sidekick," Chris quipped in response to the greeting.

"No," the brown-haired boy countered.

The blonde merely raised an eyebrow at hi at this response.

"Why would I want to be his _sidekick_?" Hunter asked, furrowing his brow at this. "I'd much rather be the man himself, which, by the way, I so could be."

His best friend just shook his head at him, laughing at his typical joker behavior.

Hunter took that as opportunity to lead Chris away from the group, and hand still in place asked, "D'you hear about Eve last night?"

"Yeah, 'course," Chris replied; turning to face the other immediately, concern etched into his features. "Her dad called me when he couldn't get through to her, but he wouldn't let me come over. I was up all night, and so close to just going over there, but he doesn't normally ask me not to, so I figured it best to just leave it for the night. When I called this morning, he said she was ok and to come by later – "

"Yeah, I know," Hunter agreed.

He shared the look with his best friend that spoke volumes of what had happened.

"So, anyway, Mel went over there, and like the dashing _superhero_ that I am; I went with," he told the blonde, plastering a smile on his face.

"And?" Chris prompted hastily.

"_And_ she wasn't too good man," the other boy's voice was sympathetic, the smile already having dropped. "So, I propose we go over there and cheer her up."

The smile returned, with a tempting edge.

"I already sent your sister over there," Chris informed him.

"Well, what's two more going to do?" the brown-haired boy waved his friend's words off carelessly.

"I doubt they'll want to see – " the blonde started.

"Me? I know," Hunter cut in, giving his best friend a wink, as he continued with, "But I'm sure you can win Eve round, right? Do that and we can ignore what my sister thinks."

Chris rolled his eyes at him, and then putting his own arm round Hunter he said, "Come on then. I've got a girlfriend to save."

"Hey! I think you're forgetting I already saved her," Hunter quipped as they neared the car.

"Yeah, but she loves me more," Chris remarked, and sent his best friend a smirk and a wink of his own as he bounded into the limo.

.

When they arrived, the maid told them that _Miss Evangeline_ was downstairs; which really meant she was de-stressing.

The boys descended the staircase and like usual had to blink and readjust their eyes to the bright lighting of the vast space before them.

After her 'scare' the previous year, and her tentative rehabilitation, Chuck Bass had demolished the lowest two stories of their home – which, to note, weren't used anyway; at least notlately – and had them converted into a fully-fledged gymnastics training area. It was fairly impressive, least of all because it was all 'underground', though not to mention the fact it had a full-sized trampoline in it, which could be used to its full bouncing potential. Always a bonus when your daughter used it to relieve tension, not to mention when it was a favored pastime of hers.

When they stepped inside they found the brunette sailing high up in the air, her voice carrying across the room and reverberating off the walls; matched only by that of her best friend and cousin whose own voice was echoing off the surrounds as she swung from the rings.

"Ladies!" Hunter called out, the smirk practically peeling from each word.

"So this is where Constance's finest hang-out," Chris exclaimed, grinning as he stood next to his best friend. "Remind us to lurk here more often."

Melissa rolled her eyes and always one for the dramatics threw herself up into the air to perform a double twist before landing it perfectly on the mat below. She wasn't in the mood for launching herself into the oversized foam cubes at that moment and having her brother pretend she needed a helping hand extricating herself from the pit that housed them.

"Speaking of an incredibly annoying person," she commented.

She strode towards the two boys, making a point of looking them both up and down as she neared their position.

"You can't just keep waltzing in here, you know – you'll contaminate the sterile air," Melissa remarked haughtily, sending her brother and his best friend a particularly smug look.

Her brother returned it with one of his own, and the words, "Oh, were you talking about me? Because I heard a bit of your conversation, and it rather sounded like you were talking about our dear little brother"

Melissa had already had enough of her twin's smart-mouth, redirecting her gaze to the far-off wall, a far more appealing target for her gorgeous blues.

"Gone and done something ridiculous again?" Hunter quipped with a patronizing roll of the eyes and a low tut-tut.

Chris just rolled his own eyes at the pair and made his way across to the large trampoline where Eve was already declining in height.

She performed a few intricate twists Chris still didn't know the names of before she fell into a low seat-drop on his final approach and scooted over to the side as he reached her, resting his arms on the cushioned mat.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured.

He instantly met her lips with his own, her own soft 'Hey' melting in his mouth.

"So," Chris broached the subject as soon as they pulled apart. "We need to talk, yeah?"

"Yeah," Eve breathed out, dipping her head.

He reached out and tucked his hand beneath the side of her face and he felt her nuzzle against it, a gentle smile tickling his palm as he said; "You know I'm here for you, right?"

She sighed softly against his skin and nodded in the curve of his hand. "I know."

His thumb caressed one of the small cuts on her cheek softly, his face falling into a slight frown as he fingered the slight bruise next to it.

And then Eve turned her head to look at him dead-on as she replied, "And you know I love you for it."

"Damn straight," Chris commented, smirking lightly as he leaned forward to capture her lips once more.

The sudden sound of a door slamming against paneling jolted them apart, and they looked across at the entrance to see her father filling the doorway.

"What've I told you about coming into my gym whenever you please?" the elder questioned then.

He made a point of eyeing up the boy currently trying to wrestle his sister into falling over the edge of the foam pit and then doing the same to the other one standing _canoodling_ with his daughter.

"I'm beginning to think this place is developing a smell with your constant presence," Chuck remarked, and raised an eyebrow at the male pair in turn.

Eve chuckled at her father's antics and drew her boyfriend in for one more kiss, fingers threading through his blonde hair, while Melissa took the opportune moment with her brother's attention diverted to shove him into the foam pit, practically cackling at her handiwork and her Uncle Chuck's choice of words.

Hunter pulled himself out, sending a glare at his highly entertained sister and promising retribution later that night.

Chris parted ways with Eve on the words, "We can talk after dinner tonight, yeah?"

The boys passed by Chuck, who gave them each a half-hearted shove out the door before he turned back to roll his eyes and shake his head at the girls.

"Never let it be said that Chuck Bass doesn't do his part to curb school truancy," he commented then, bowing dramatically for his efforts to the city's academic system and sending his thoroughly amused niece a conspirator's wink.

.

_**TBC…**_

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought of it – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	6. Only One Word Comes To Mind

A/N: Title for this chapter comes from the Biffy Clyro song of the same name.

* * *

Chapter Five: Only One Word Comes To Mind

"_It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't."  
**Barbara Kingsolver, 'Animal Dreams'**_

.

"I realize this might be too soon," Lily said in that gentle, but commanding tone of hers. "But I thought it might be a good opportunity to clear the air."

"Clear. What. Air?" Eve bit out, eyeing her grandmother carefully.

"Evangeline," Bart warned, and gave her a look he reserved solely for her: the one that had a sternness to it, but a hidden fond aspect of pride and affection too.

"I apologize, Grandma," the teenager conceded.

The elder female nodded at her granddaughter as she took her seat at the table.

"Clear what air?" Eve asked again, this time making sure her tone was deliberately light: so much so that Melissa rolled her eyes and scoffed at her from across the table; Hunter made a sound in the bottom of his throat that resulted in him being kicked in the shin from under the table; and Chris merely smirked into his glass, drinking it all in.

"I invited your mother to our dinner," Lily said, and then took a very deliberate drink of her champagne.

"You _what_?" came the choked response; her father beating her to the punch mere moments before Eve herself could do so.

Chuck's fingers were wrapped tightly round his Scotch glass, while Eve's were clenched hard into a fist. Chris wordlessly placed his own hand over his girlfriend's and after a few seconds felt the tension ease from her fingers.

"I invited Blair: your wife, Charles; and Evangeline's mother, to join us for our family dinner," the elder merely reiterated sending them a tight smile before setting her attention on the task of sorting the napkin before her.

"Well, this ought to be good," Hunter commented from across the table, amusement clear in his voice, as he scoffed in the face of his grandmother's plan.

Naturally, this resulted in a myriad of responses; none of which was particularly welcoming to this remark.

The rumble of chatter was silenced by the sound of Lily announcing, "Ah, there she is now."

They all turned to face the newest arrival, a spectrum of facial expressions.

"Blair, how nice of you to join us," Lily greeted her in that same congenial tone. "Why don't you take a place at the table?"

Blair's steps were confident and didn't give anything away, but Serena could tell she was hardly enamored by being introduced back into her previous life in such a manner as this. After all, a select few of the van der-Bass clan alone was bad enough; but all of them together was sure to be a nightmare.

The brunette drew herself up and sent a slightly strained, though ever gracious, smile to Lily as she took her seat at the only remaining place at the table: next to her daughter, and directly opposite her husband. Lily Bass always was manipulative in her own way.

"Thank you Lily," Blair awarded her, and received a friendly nod and smile of acknowledgement.

"So, Blair, what brings you back to these parts?" Dan was the first to speak up, and the unspoken, but highly felt, groan from the rest of the table resounded around him.

"I don't think that's quite material for dinner conversation, Daniel," Bart told him, managing a thin smile in the younger man's direction.

"No, no, that's ok," Blair cut in.

Her father-in-law's unwavering expression told her he stood by his statement and she would do well to heed the warning it contained.

"I missed my family," she directed at Dan, though he was certain her words were intended for elsewhere. "And I felt it was time to come home."

"Of course, dear, and we're glad to have you back with us," Lily swiftly interjected at this point, and then she looked pointedly at the male near the end of the table, raising a hand and prompting, "Manuel, pour Blair some wine, would you?"

The server did as requested, before the brunette could even so much as put in a word of protest, pouring Blair a generous serving of wine; to which she could only smile and nod in thanks.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, and as usual – never one to break from the habit, even after so many years – Dan was the one to break it.

"So, Serena tells me you were in France?" he said, looking up to meet Blair's eyes with a half, tempting, smile. "That must've been… _nice_."

"It – it was different," Blair finally conceded.

The voice that spoke then was much younger, and notably female. "I'm sure spending three years in a completely different country, while your family are thousands of miles away, residing on another continent, _would_ be different, wouldn't you agree, Uncle Dan?"

Eve smiled sweetly over at her Uncle, while her father watched her carefully through hooded eyes.

"So, what exactly _is_ different?" the teenager turned her attention to the woman next to her at those words. "Because I'm having a hard time picturing it for myself – but maybe that's just because I only lived through one side of the story."

She released a short, completely fake, giggle with that remark and continued to look to the elder brunette to provide the answers to her questions.

"So, fill us in – what did we miss in those three years?" she questioned, still speaking in that sickly voice of sugar. "Did we miss any major birthdays? Don't worry, you've still got a short while to go before I turn the big 1-8, although my _Sweet Sixteen_ wasn't quite so sweet; but not to worry, I'm sure you'll be more than happy to make it up to me now you've returned, won't you? Yes, and you can regale us with tales of your own?"

As Eve went on she eyed her mother with an expression of faux hopefulness, and it slowly chipped away at Blair's resolve. She imagined that was the girl's intention.

"Tell us how you hopped on a plane for _wonderful_ France, without so much as even a goodbye to the family you were abandoning, only to spend the next three years living in blissful ignorance of their existence. Was it drugs? Did they addle your brain? Or was it alcohol that impaired your thoughts for all those years? Or maybe you were suffering from temporary amnesia, hmm?" the teenager questioned then.

They were nearing the end of Eve's tirade, thinly veiled as it was, Blair could tell.

"Because it must have been something for you to do that," the teenage said, words growing colder, tone becoming harder. "For you to leave us and never look back; and then return one day as if nothing had ever happened and expect us to just go back to the way it was before!"

Each word was torn through a gritting of teeth by this point, and Eve's grasp of her silverware was verging on white-knuckled.

"It doesn't work like that," the girl fumed; her eyes boring into Blair's identical ones. "A mother doesn't just abandon her child, a wife doesn't just leave her husband. And a family doesn't fall apart because _you_ decide you don't want to be part of it anymore."

There was a glint of something in her daughter's eyes then as she said it, conviction tearing into every word.

"You didn't want to be part of our family for three years, so what makes you think _we_ want you to be a part of it now?" the teenager demanded of her then, raised eyebrow, face hard; the sheer similarity between her and her father a formidable force to be up against.

"Evangeline, that's enough," Bart told her sternly, his hands on either side of his plate, knife and fork held tightly within his grip, as he stared his seething granddaughter down.

"No, father," Chuck interrupted then. "You know what? It's not enough."

She expected a battle of wills between the two Bass men, but what Blair witnessed then was Bart's silent acceptance of what his son had to say, what he was about to do.

"My daughter has every right to expect answers; she just possibly hasn't gone about demanding them in quite the best way," he smiled thinly across at his wife, "But then that may be a trait she shares with her mother."

She didn't rise to the bait, had managed to hold herself off long enough while her daughter tore at the weak flesh and the brittle bones that shielded her heart from view, and willed herself to push forward.

"Now, if you'll forgive me," Chuck addressed them all then, placing his napkin down on the table, and moving his chair back. "I seem to have lost my appetite."

And with that he rose from his place at the table and walked out.

"Well, if he's leaving, then I'm not about to stay," Eve commented then, moving to leave herself.

"And it's only fair if _she_ gets out of this, that we do to," Hunter remarked at that, gesturing to himself, his sister and his best friend as he too made to replicate his Uncle's departure.

"Sit. Down," Bart's cutting voice stripped through the air.

All teenagers chanced a look at their grandfather before doing just that.

"Now, there will be no more of this nonsense. Blair is family, and as such has every right to sit at this table with us," he informed them, sending them all a cursory glance, "So you will all sit there and finish your meals, and you will damn well enjoy it."

The table lapsed into silence, attendees cutting into their food with renewed fervor, when an amused voice cut through the air.

"Just another van der Bass dinner then, eh?" Hunter commented, smirking widely, and dodged the napkin his irate grandmother threw his way, emerging triumphant with a loud chuckle.

.

The moment dessert was cleared, Lily wisely took the opportunity to suggest coffee and biscuits be served in one of the other rooms; and there seemed to be a collective release of breath at this announcement.

The younger members took the chance to escape and moved in a completely opposite direction from the adults to another part of their grandparent's home.

Caleb was left trailing after his elder brother and sister and their best friend; not that they necessarily objected to his presence, but they wanted to find Eve and see where her head was at. And that was quite a feat to accomplish when they had to suffer through a nine-year-old practically latching onto their legs and slowing them all down.

"Why did Eve say all that stuff at dinner?" was the little boy's first question.

"Because she was annoyed," Melissa replied shortly.

"But why? I thought she would've wanted her mom to come back," Caleb said then.

"Well, she doesn't," the female answered brusquely once again.

Hunter shot her an exasperated look, and rephrased, "No, she does want her mom back, Caleb. She just – she was surprised to see her, and she hasn't spoken to her in a while; and you know how Eve gets when she's upset or shocked by something."

The younger boy grinned at that, commenting, "Yeah, she goes mental, and you film it for her birthday video!"

"Exactly," his older brother said, ruffling his hair, and winking at him.

The four didn't have to wait long to locate their missing teen. Their voices dropped to silence and their steps became lighter, with Melissa turning back to look at her little brother, placing a finger to her lips as she did so. They stood in the shadows, trying not to feel guilty about eavesdropping but failing miserably and yet continuing with the act all the same.

"You know, at some point you're going to have to have a civil conversation with her," they heard their Uncle say.

"I thought I already did," their cousin said in return. "After all; _not_ calling her a selfish bitch or a shitty excuse for a mother is fairly civil, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, yes," her father conceded, rolling his eyes at her. "And have I mentioned how grateful I am to you for omitting those minor details?"

She smirked at him in response and said sweetly, "No, in fact, you haven't."

"Well, I am," Chuck told her simply.

Hunter stifled his snicker at their exchange when his sister shot him a look that blatantly told him to shut-up or suffer her wrath at exposing their presence.

After a few moments, their Uncle sighed and said, "I know this is hard, Evie, but you're going to have to seriously talk with her sometime."

"Why? Because that's what she wants?" Eve demanded in return. "Well, tough, I don't particularly feel like talking to someone who abandoned me without a second thought."

"You think this is easy for me either, Evie?" he asked. "I'm finding your mother's return just as difficult to deal with as you are; but that is exactly what we're going to have to do. Because, like it or not, she's going to be around."

He ran a ragged hand through his hair, dragging it down across his face, before sending her a pointed look.

"And you _are_ going to have to talk to her at some point – You can't avoid the past forever, Evie," he murmured then, cupping her face in his hands. "At some point you have to stop running and turn around and face it head on."

And with a short meeting of eyes, he released her and turned to walk out.

He stopped when he reached the door, fingers wrapped round the handle, and looked back to face his daughter. "Talk to your friends. Maybe they'll agree with me that would be as good an opportunity as any."

.

"So…" Eve said, her voice trailing off. "You're really here."

"Eve!" her mother exclaimed, startled by the presence, and whirling round to face her daughter.

The teenager took a deep breath and met her mother's eyes. She noticed how much they'd faded since she'd last seen them; a blander coffee, though they were no less piercing. Eve felt like her mother was reading her: learning things without having to ask. It was unnerving, and she hated it. She turned away.

"How's this going to work then?" the younger brunette asked, gaze still averted.

"Well, I suppose that's up to you," Blair told her. "But I want you to know that I'm back for good now, I'm not going anywhere, and… I'm here for you, Eve, whenever you need me to be."

"Great," the teenager muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" the elder asked.

"I _said_: that's just wonderful," Eve spun round and informed her. "I'm so glad that you're here for me _now_, nevermind the fact that I might've needed you sometime in the past, oh I don't know, _three years_, maybe?"

"Ok, Eve," Blair said, taking a step towards her, holding her hands out in offering.

"Don't," the teenager commanded, in an eerily soft tone, "come near me."

The elder stopped in her tracks, holding up her hands in defense; which Eve acknowledged with a simple nod.

"Look, I know we have a lot to discuss," Blair started. "I know that so much has happened these past three years, and I don't expect things to just go back to the way they were – "

"Good, because they won't," Eve cut in then, giving the elder a pointed look.

"And I understand that," she carried on. "I know you must have all these questions for me – "

"Just one actually," the teenager interrupted at that.

Her eyes met her mother's in a strange battle of wills as she questioned, "Why?"

"I – I was unhappy," Blair replied.

"Not good enough," Eve dismissed, and then with a low, wry laugh, she said, "You could've bought a dog to cheer you up."

The elder frowned somewhat at this, before adding, "It was – depression… "

"Which you had pills and numerous doctors for," Eve responded. "You didn't need to flee to another country because of it."

"I – I did, Eve," Blair told her softly. "And you have to know that I wouldn't have done it if I felt I had any other option."

"What I _know_ is that you were sick, that you were unhappy – but that you were getting help, here, in this city, surrounded by your friends and family. And then one day you suddenly seemed to decide it wasn't working, and high-tailed it to another country," Eve replied firmly. "_That_ is what I know, mother."

They were both quiet for several long minutes after this, Eve standing resolute in the same spot as before, while Blair paced the length of the room, surveying its walls and furnishings, looking anywhere but at her daughter.

"I see you kept up the gymnastics," Blair commented then, smiling reminiscently as she fingered the edge of one of the trophies on the stand; a new one she'd never seen before.

"Well, you know, seemed a waste to give it up completely after I'd gotten so far," Eve replied, her voice monotone, as she rolled one shoulder.

The elder turned to look at her then, and asked, "You still compete?"

"When I can," the teenager replied vaguely. "Enough to remind people why I was associated with the best our field had to offer, and keep the walls and table-tops filled. Not enough that I have no chest to speak of, and no life outside the gym walls."

Something caught her eye and her attention was diverted off to the side. The teenager shook her head and mouthed something at whoever had stolen her focus, before releasing a small sigh and rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry, would you excuse me for a short while," Eve requested, her Upper East Side manners presenting themselves out of habit more than anything else.

"Yes, of course," was Blair's immediate, and rather obvious, response; she couldn't help but smile at the way her daughter's upbringing revealed itself even when she didn't necessarily want it to.

"Thank you," the teenager replied, sending her a small semblance of a smile and adding, "I'm sure we'll speak again."

"I'm sure we will," Blair murmured in return, watching her daughter open the door and walk out into the adjoining side corridor.

.

When she finally managed to locate Serena, alone, during her own bout of freedom, the first question on her lips was, "She doesn't compete anymore, does she?"

"What?" the blonde asked; completely blindsided by this.

"Eve," Blair clarified then. "She doesn't do the meets. Regionals, Nationals – she doesn't compete anymore, does she?"

"No, no, she does," Serena assured her, and then seemed to trail off. "When she can, and when she feels she can showcase herself to the best of her ability…"

"Which is practically never, isn't it?" the brunette deduced.

"It's – " her best friend stopped herself and released a soft sigh, conceding, "During the holidays, and when it's an important event… "

"Is this because of the accident?" Blair asked then, raising her eyebrows.

"Mostly," Serena admitted.

The brunette let out a low wail, her face crumbling.

"But she was slipping before that, B," her best friend tried to placate her. "Her heart just wasn't in it anymore; and let's be honest she was training hour-upon-hour every week, with less and less time allowed for her to spend time with her friends and family and just be a normal kid. After you left, she cut back on her hours."

"And Chuck let her?" Blair seemed surprised, and with good reason.

Her husband had always been the one who encouraged Eve to practice, to strive to be as best as she could be. He attended every meet, and at least one of her practice sessions ever week too; a fact that seemed to shine more than her own stellar attendance at every single one. And although she was almost certain his heart was in his mouth every time he saw their daughter do a release from the bars or perform a dismount, Blair remembered how she could see the pride reflected in her husband's eyes throughout; whether she missed a beat and landed on the floor instead of back on the beam, or she didn't stick her landing correctly and ended up losing tenths off her score.

In fact, the more she pondered on it, the more she realized that of course Chuck would let her drop the commitment. Eve was his pride and joy, and all he'd ever really been concerned with was making sure she was happy. It was one of the reasons Blair was able to leave like she did. Because she knew, deep down, that they would be ok.

"Well, when her concentration started slipping he was more concerned with her safety than anything else," Serena explained. "Her focus was dwindling, and with it her moves were getting sloppy and she was becoming careless."

Blair could only imagine how this made her daughter feel, nevermind her husband.

"She messed up a warm-up routine on the trampoline and nearly slipped a disk," the blonde continued, sharing a look with her best friend. "After that, Chuck gave her the option of doing it simply as recreation, or doing it to compete. Initially she chose to compete, and it was ok for a while, her focus returned, her routines retained that finesse they previously held; and then the accident happened, and… well, she decided maybe she'd gone as far as she wanted with it."

"Do you think she'd have continued if she hadn't gotten in the accident?" Blair asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I think she'd have realized that no matter how much she might have wanted it, some things are just intended to be out of your grasp," Serena answered, a quiet regrettable tone to her words.

Her best friend nodded at that and turned to walk away, but not before saying quietly, "Thank you."

.

"_You_ are unbelievable," Eve quipped as arms drew themselves around her and pulled her flush against their own body.

"Correction: I'm incredible," was the return, murmured into her ear, hot breath tickling her skin.

"Insatiable's more like it," she commented then as he began to trail kisses down the line of her throat, setting her skin on fire and sending her stomach all aflutter.

"Mmm," was all the response he gave to that, before: "Besides, you should be a little more _grateful_ when I've just saved your ass."

"Yes, I'm sure it wasn't because you wanted to _get_ _me_ on my ass," Eve replied, raising an amused eyebrow at her boyfriend.

Chris drew away, looking up at her then and asking, "Must you ruin the moment like that?"

She simply grinned at him and took his hand; lightly tugging on it she led them down the corridor with the proposition, "Let's take this somewhere more… _comfortable_, shall we?"

.

"Daddy!" Eve exclaimed, emerging from the room, still holding Chris's hand as he stood behind her; a flush in her cheeks and a certain _glow_ about her that he would really rather not have noticed. Not to mention the fact that Chris's usually casually-rolled-out-of-bed styled blonde locks were in inordinate disarray, his previous crisp white shirt wrinkled, the knot of his already skinny black tie infinitely smaller than when he'd first arrived.

"Evangeline," her father murmured, staring her down.

"This requires another one-two chat when we get home, doesn't it?" Eve surmised, her gaze falling.

"Yes, it does," Chuck managed, watching her.

She nodded, and began to slink away, tugging her boyfriend to follow, which he did; and to his credit he even slipped a protective arm around Eve's waist as they walked down the corridor, the fingers of their free hands still entwined.

"Evie?" her father called, as they were nearing the end of the hallway, great reluctance sounding in his voice with the single word.

The pair stopped, and the female slowly turned to face her father, asking cautiously, "Yes, Daddy?"

"If you don't want your grandparents staring and asking questions the rest of the night, I advise a trip to the Ladies Room," Chuck recommended, giving her a slight nod in acknowledgement of the marring on her otherwise perfect skin that was now obviously displayed beneath her smudged makeup.

Eve nodded, and gave her father a small smile in thanks, ducking her head somewhat, before placing her other hand over Chris's and turning to continue their path.

Chuck released a breath, dipping his head, and shaking it. His little girl was growing up, and she had been for some time.

He was just sad to see someone else taking over his role of her Savior and Protector.

Though, grudgingly, he had to admit if he had to pass on such a responsibility to somebody, he was rather content with it being Christopher Kingston, not that he'd ever admit to thinking such a thing – well, maybe on their wedding day.

He groaned, bashing his head against the wall behind him then; he was becoming as bad as Serena.

.

_**TBC…**_

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think – means a lot!

More answers et al will come as the story progresses, sorry to keep you all waiting, but I kind of have it playing out in a certain way – which I'm hoping you'll like when it comes to, but it does mean you have to put up with these filler points too, sorry ;)

Also, though, I'm trying to make this quite well-rounded so it does delve into other areas, and doesn't focus just solely on why Blair left; it mainly explores how her return has impacted the lives of the people she left – and then adds in aspects of the past.

Again, thanks, and I hope you liked it.  
Steph  
xxx


	7. Show A Little Faith

So the first part of this chapter was originally supposed to be the last part of the previous chapter, but it got to be too long for that so I had to cut it. Now I think this chapter's way too long with its addition, but I'm keeping it anyway, 'cos I like it. So, hope you enjoy the extra long update  
I might be a day or two later with the next one 'cos I'm going back to uni and I don't know what the internet situation's like in my flat.

A/N: the dresses described in this are real dresses – though they were designed for another purpose, links are:  
Eve: 'Dallas Marie' gown, Maggie Sottero  
Melissa: 'Olivia' gown, Maggie Sottero  
As for Chris & Hunter's attire: Think Chuck's tux in 'Hi, Society' ;)

Also, Bold type is memories/flashback.  
And the title is inspired by a Charlotte Church song of the same name.

* * *

Chapter Six: Show A Little Faith

_"Treasure your families – the future of humanity passes by way of the family."_  
**_Pope John Paul II_**

.

"So, what'll be first: your mother or Chris?" Chuck asked, as soon as he stepped through the threshold of their living area behind their daughter.

"Do we really have to do this now, Daddy?" Eve tried, turning to give him a look of slight disbelief, along with teenage deliberation.

"Yes," was the short answer.

The teenager let out a low groan and complained, "Why can't we just do it tomorrow? It's really late, and I'm tired and – "

"Well, you should have thought of that before you went and used up all that energy engaging in… _vigorous exercise_ with your boyfriend," Chuck told her snappishly.

The night had been stressful enough without his daughter adding to it now, and to be honest he was still trying to decide how best to deal with the whole situation. Obviously he was talking about the one where his daughter was, quite happily it would seem, sexually active (the more 'clinical' terminology allowed him to distance himself from the reality of it all for the majority of the evening; and was possibly the only thing that stopped him from downing the whole bottle of thirty-year-old single malt that she'd given him for his birthday, right there and then), because he had no doubt the… _other_ one would find a way of working itself out.

Luckily, Eve didn't descend into a response that would have no doubt simply led to an argument – of sorts – instead settling for wrinkling her nose at her father and giving him the disgusted reply of: "Ew, gross, Daddy."

He waved an indifferent hand, still trying to convince himself it wasn't happening, as he continued on, "Besides, you'll be out with Melissa tomorrow, no doubt seeing just how many times you can use my Gold Card before the machines burn a hole in it, while you trail the shops of Fifth or Madison or wherever you end up."

She rolled her eyes at him.

He continued on, unperturbed, "And I'll be – well, at this rate I'll count myself lucky if I'm drinking myself into a stupor with your Uncle Nate."

"You do know that using your own example like that isn't exactly the best way to go about starting a conversation with me about responsibility and all that rot, right?" Eve asked her father then, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm the adult, so I can do what I damn well please," Chuck dismissed. "You, on the other hand, however _old_ you might think you are; remain a child in my eyes. And so, you get to listen to the talk about _responsibility and all that rot_; and I expect you to take it in, and act in an appropriate manner. Deal with it."

He flashed her a smug smirk and she curled her lip at the sight of it, which likely would have had him chuckling had it occurred at a different time.

"So, what'll it be? Your mother or your boyfriend?" her father questioned her then, an expectant raised eyebrow prompting her to answer.

"They're sort of linked, are they not?" Eve answered, avoiding her father's eyes.

"Really? Your mother's having sex with your boyfriend too, is she?" Chuck asked then with both raised eyebrows that time and slight amusement lilting his words.

"No, that's not what I meant and you know it," the teenager muttered, sending a glare in her father's direction.

"Well, by all means, please explain," was the simply reply.

"I just mean… well, he calms me down," Eve bowed her head, biting her lip at the confession. "I can relax with him."

She chanced a look at her father to see him looking at her with the most curious expression.

"He calms you down?" the elder reiterated. "_That's_ why you have sex? Because it calms you down? Because you can _relax_ during it?" He released a breath, and remarked, "What were you two doing _before_ you had sex?"

Eve frowned at him, and dipped her head once more, wringing her hands in her lap. "No, it's not that, it's just… well, I love him."

She raised her eyes to glance over at her father, and noted that while he hadn't blanched at the statement and his expression hadn't hardened, his whole frame had gone completely rigid.

"That's the most ridiculous reason I've ever heard," Chuck commented after a moment.

"What?" Eve's head snapped up. "_That_ makes no sense at all."

"Sure it does," her father replied easily. "Just because you don't follow the same logic as me, doesn't mean my point is null and void."

"But why else did you think I'd sleep with him?" the teenager asked then, suddenly rather confused.

"I was trying to pretend you didn't," Chuck gritted out after a moment.

"Oh," Eve voiced, realization dawning over her features before she smiled all too cheerily and chirpily told him, "Well, now you know."

"I've known for the past two months," he deadpanned, meeting her eyes.

"And you never said anything?" Eve questioned instantly. "And how? When? _How?_"

She suddenly seemed quite horrified by the thought; her original surprise dissolved in a world of mortification and confusion.

"I thought it best to let you come to me," was the low, clipped response.

"Oh my God," she breathed out, her face crumpling.

"Oh, stop with the dramatics – and what would your grandfather say about you taking the Lord's name in vain?" He rolled his eyes at his own words even as he uttered them.

"I don't care," Eve ground out. "My father just told me he's known for months that I was having sex with my boyfriend – and he didn't say anything!"

"What was I supposed to say?" Chuck questioned.

"I don't know! _You're_ the parent!"

"Well, I already told you; I thought it best to let you come to me," he reiterated.

"But, _why_?" she all but demanded at that, and then her face softened and her shoulders deflated and her voice became raspy as she asked, "Why didn't you come and speak to me about it? Why didn't you call me on it? Why didn't you do what you normally do and act all overprotective and get mad at me for having sex and tell me I'm too young and I don't know what I'm doing and – Why didn't you act like my dad?"

Her words had dipped even lower by that point, encased in a stream of tears.

"Oh, God," Chuck muttered then; and in an instant he was by his daughter's side, an arm wrapped tightly round her as he drew her into his strong embrace. "If I had known you were going to make such a fuss about me _not_ making a fuss, I'd have just done it and saved us all the trouble of the waterworks and dramatics that you seem to have such a flair for these days. _Jesus_."

"Now who's going to get reprimanded from grandpa?" Eve teased, raising a hand to wipe her cheeks, and allowing a small smile to peak through.

"I didn't say anything, because as odd as this may sound; I actually trust you," Chuck told her.

"You do?" she looked up at him, with slight surprise displayed in her wide mahogany eyes.

"I do," he murmured softly, giving her a small smile. "I trust you, Evie, to know when you're doing the right thing, and when you're making a mistake. I trust you to follow your heart, as well as your head. And I trust your instincts as much as I trust your judgment. I trust you completely, Evie, because you've never given me a reason not to."

"Well, until now…" Eve muttered, looking down.

"Yes, well, admittedly, I did _try_ and wait for you to come to me – but I was starting to wane under the time length you subjected me to."

"Understandable," the teenage commiserated. "But a valiant effort all the same."

He nodded at this, and the two shared a smile.

"I still can't believe you knew that long and didn't say anything, it's so – "

"Unlike me?" Chuck supplied, with a rueful look.

"Thoughtful," Eve finished.

"_Thoughtful_?" the elder choked out.

"Yes, thoughtful," she reiterated.

"You women and your romantic notions," Chuck rolled his eyes. "I didn't completely do it because I trusted you, Evie."

"No?" she almost squeaked.

"Well, I did," he backtracked, shifting his eyes. "But it was also because… I was absolutely terrified, ok?"

"What?" Eve spluttered.

"I was scared, alright?"

"No, it's not alright," she retorted. "Explanation, now."

Chuck rolled his head to the side to send his daughter a scathing look, before finally relenting and saying, "I had just discovered that my little girl was not, in fact, my little girl anymore – and apparently hadn't been for quite some time."

"Only a couple of weeks," Eve interjected at that.

This didn't help much, and the elder sent her a look telling her as such.

"So, yes, I was scared out of my mind, ok?" Chuck told her. "I had no idea how to deal with the situation, no idea what to say; and for some reason my immediate urge to burst down the door, scream at you, and damn near throw that boyfriend of yours out the nearest window subsided rather quickly with the notion that I knew you, I trusted you, and I was more than a little aware that you were too sensible and analytical not to have thought this through, along with the fact you were too bloody-minded to partake in something that could ruin your chances of college without due course and attention."

He presented her with a slight shrug of the shoulders and the smallest of smirks at that point.

"So… I did what I usually do when I'm in over my head – I called up your Uncle Nate and drank until I could effectively forget everything that had just taken place, which is surprisingly more helpful than you'd think," her father commented then; attempting to lighten the mood, and take away from the huge confession he had just laid before her.

"I'll stick with my weapons of destruction, thanks," she replied, giving him a small wink and a smile. "And Daddy?"

"Mmm?" he murmured, turning his head to look at his daughter once more.

"It _was_ thoughtful, and it _was_ amazing, and it _was_ everything that makes you the best father there is," Eve told him earnestly then.

He shook his head at her, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes quite pointedly in her direction at her words.

She wrapped her arms around him tighter then as she said adamantly, "And I do love you even more for it."

.

"You do realize just how weird this is, right? Me talking to you about sex," Eve commented as they lounged on the sofa together; having spent the better part of the previous two hours discussing _minor_ little details pertaining to said teenager's… active relationship. "Especially when I'm well aware of what your reputation used to be, and I know how protective you are and since you've been rather lax in that department of late – Oh no," she stopped. "You're not going to strangle Chris now are you?"

Chuck deliberated it over a minute, before relenting, "No."

"Good," the teenager responded, though she watched her father for a few moments longer.

"My scarf's too precious to ruin by throttling his thick neck – and, as much as I hate to admit it, I might actually feel some remorse at ruining those pretty boy features of his," her father said, giving her a look to try and appease her.

"He does not have pretty boy features," Eve protested then, and a smile overcame her whole face as she rephrased, "He's ruggedly handsome."

"Right," Chuck scoffed at this.

"Oh, and remind me to tell him to stop getting into fights or he'll permanently disfigure his pretty boy image – and what would _that_ do to your grandmother's prized family photo albums?" he added, amusement evident in his voice.

"He's not a pretty boy, and anyway, he only gets in those fights because he's protecting me," Eve huffed.

"Like you need protecting," her father scoffed once more at his daughter's words.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have someone show they care," she said to that, giving her father a pointed look.

"Hey!" he protested. "I suffered for two months before confronting you!"

"True," Eve mused aloud, a smile playing across her lips. "Alright, I'll give you that… Besides, you both do love me; and I _suppose_ I love you two as well."

"And on that note, I think it's time to discuss your mother," Chuck announced.

Eve scowled. "Did you really have to ruin the moment like that?"

"Hmm, let me think about that," her father mockingly voiced. "Yes. You were getting all lovey-dovey romantic on me again."

"I'm a teenager, and in love – that's what we do," she defended, giving her father a look.

"Yeah, well, now you're a daughter who has mommy-issues to deal with," Chuck told her simply, returning the look with one of his own.

"I don't have issues," Eve muttered at that; to which her father rolled his eyes, naturally, though the slight peeking of a proud smirk could be seen breaking through the pursed lips.

"Of course you don't," he dismissed. "But none the less we are going to discuss your mother and how you feel about her return – "

"Like I can't breathe," Eve released then.

Her father sought out her eyes then, staggered by this sudden admission.

"Like I'm drowning, and I can't get to the surface. Like I'm the last one standing with nowhere to go, and no one to go to. Like I can't breathe," she reiterated then, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Why – ? Why didn't you say anything sooner? Why – ?" Chuck questioned, stammering over words as he tried to process what his daughter was going through. "I could've helped, I could've – "

"I thought I could deal with it – I thought that after my mini meltdown the other night that it would be ok. That I'd got it all out of my system." The brunette rolled her shoulders, her head bowed. "But when I saw her at dinner, I just didn't know how to react. And there was this tightening in my chest and before I could control myself I was saying all this stuff to her, and even after I'd said it, it still didn't make it any easier."

She turned and met her father's terrified gaze.

"So, when I said Chris calms me down, relaxes me, I meant it," Eve told him, her lips curving ever-so-slightly at the corners, but at his look, she clarified, "I don't mean with sex, or whatever. I mean in general, always, whenever he's there; it's like… it's like he's throwing me a lifeline, you know?"

After a moment, Chuck nodded, a small smile gracing his features.

His daughter eyed him curiously, and his smile widened. "Ever wonder how I've managed to cope all this time without your mother around?"

"Drink?" Eve supplied, with a tempting smile.

He rolled his eyes, releasing a small chuckle all the same, and then sobered as he told her, "I loved your mother more than anything; and I would've _done_ anything for her. It almost killed me when she left, and for a long time I honestly didn't know how I would cope, make it through another day, _live_ without her."

She waited, watched him as he spoke, as he blinked and swallowed; because she knew how hard it was for him and she was unbelievably selfish then and now; but only because she missed her mother; only because she needed her father.

"But I did," he said simply, "Because such a feat was only matched by one other person. The only other person I loved more than the woman I married, the woman who had borne my child."

Eve was riveted by the sound of her father's voice, the look in his eyes.

"You," Chuck said; and gave her a gift as worthy as the one she'd given him earlier that night. "You're the only reason I can stand your mother being back; you're the only reason I can look past the hurt and the anguish and the _memories_ of what she left behind."

She breathed in slow and deep, prepared to remember this moment forever, to hang onto it whenever she felt even remotely overwhelmed. They were in this together; she would never forget that.

"So, when you say you can't breathe when your mother's around, I understand; possibly better than anyone," he said. "And when you say that the one person you love with every fiber of your being is what gets you through that, well, I understand that too."

"So, what do we do?" Eve asked him, after several long moments had passed; each basking in the weight of their words.

"We do what we've always done. We deal with the hand that's been dealt to us," Chuck responded simply.

On seeing the conflicted look that passed momentarily over his daughter's face, her put his arm around her once more, and drew her into him, holding her close as she crawled into his lap.

"Your mother's not going anywhere, Eve; we both know that," he told her. "And, for what it's worth, I think she might actually be trying to make this work."

"And you want to just let her?" Eve demanded then, eyes wide as she looked at her father questioningly then. "You want to let her be part of this family again? After what she did to us?"

"I think… that if she proves she's capable of this; and she allows us the chance to forgive her, then she might just deserve that second chance," Chuck answered slowly, deliberately.

"We need answers, don't we, dad?" she surmised then.

"Yeah, kiddo, I think we do," her father agreed; folding his arms around his daughter like the protective wings of a bird to her offspring as she nestled in closer towards him.

.

She appeared at his door later the next afternoon; a determined look on her face, expectant raised eyebrow and hand on the hip that practically dared him to shut the door in her face.

"If you're here to see Eve, she's not here," Chuck told her simply; leaning with one arm against the doorframe, legs crossed at the ankle.

"I wasn't actually," Blair responded, and shoved by him to enter the house.

"Please, come in," he commented, his trademark sarcastic tone playing through the air.

He pushed himself off the surround and closed the door, turning to follow the path his wife had just tread.

"So, if you're not here to see Eve, why are you here?" he questioned, joining her in the living room.

"I came to talk about us," Blair said then, her tone assertive. "And our daughter."

He eyed her, watching, waiting for what he suspected was about to come.

She cleared her throat before announcing; "You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today."

He raised an amused eyebrow, he should've expected as much. "You quote dead presidents now? And you do realize that might've been more suitable had you been telling _yourself_ that three years ago before you dropped everything and jetted off to another country."

"Yes, Chuck, I do," Blair replied simply. "Now, I came to discuss – "

He stopped her by a raised hand and the words, "Ah, don't say another word. I can tell I'm going to need a drink in my hand for this."

And at that Chuck turned and walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a glass of Scotch in hand.

"I missed her Cotillion," Blair commented as soon as he stepped back into the room; a regretful look in her eyes as she slowly ran her fingers across the edge of the silver frame.

A wistful smile and something akin to pride was displayed across her face then as she looked down at the image.

It was of the four teenagers: Eve, Chris, Melissa and Hunter all dressed in their Debutante attire, and looking as stunning as ever.

Eve was wearing a diamond white/rose one-piece, strapless, slim A-line silhouette with corset closure. The Romance Satin gown boasted an empire ribbon accent with an eye-catching brooch feature. And an asymmetrical drape flowed into bustles cascading down to a bubble hem. Her fringe was swept across to the right, and her hair pulled up into a high ponytail with her long flowing curls cascading down over her right shoulder, the brown locks passing just over the cut of her bodice. She wore a simple, thin silver necklace with three bracelets, one on her right wrist and two on her left, along with diamond drop earrings.

Blair's eye lingered over the jewelled bow on her daughter's dress for a few moments longer, before she moved her gaze across to her niece.

Standing next to Eve, Melissa's gown was an all-white one-piece, strapless and A-line, with corset closure. Flourishing lace decorated the bodice and peeked beneath the Delustered Satin drape panel at the side waist and back train. She had a set of pearls looped twice around her neck before they fell just past her breast-line, a thin diamond bracelet on each wrist and matching diamond chandelier earring; her hair swept into an elegant side-bun.

The dresses were flawless; and on the two females they looked nothing short of breath-taking. Whoever the designer was, they had truly outdone themselves with these masterpieces; Blair knew that much.

And on either side of the girls stood their escorts, Hunter and Chris, looking as dashing as ever in their black three-button tuxedos with double-sided vest: one as effortlessly stylish in a white bowtie as the other was in traditional black.

They all wore bright smiles, their eyes sparkling; their arms extended behind one another, holding each other close. Everything this one photograph captured was nothing short of spectacular. And Blair was in awe of the moment.

"Mmm, a treat to be sure," was the muttered response accompanied by a swift eye-roll.

Blair raised her eyebrow at him; a prompting look directed his way.

"I said: Yes, that was a truly _wonderful_ event you missed out on," Chuck's cutting words sliced through the air, as his sarcasm rang true. "Though it's not like it was the only thing you were absent for, now is it?"

She tried not to dwell too much on his tone or the knowledge that the alcohol would likely only exacerbate it.

"Your mother designed the dresses, by the way," he commented then, having noticed the way she was inspecting them just prior, and nodding in acknowledgement of the gowns his daughter and niece were wearing. "Since you weren't, you know, _available_."

He took a very deliberate gulp of his Scotch then, and tore his gaze from her form.

"Chuck," Blair started, and replaced the frame on the mantle, turning to walk towards him. "I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."

He scoffed at her earnest look, and turned his head to the side, taking another drink.

After a few moments, however, he relented, turning back to face her as he said, "Alright. Alright, I'll tell you what happened."

And so he did.

.

"**Evangeline Lillian Bass, daughter of Charles Bass and a woman whose name need not be mentioned – " the woman announced, her rate of speech slowing considerably before she suddenly cut herself short, her head snapping up to meet the eyes of the young female before her.**

**Eve merely gave the woman a swift hard look, never dropping the smile as she did so, and after a quick throat clearing the elder continued.**

**One step behind her, Melissa was trying to suppress her grin to an acceptable smile for society's sake, while Hunter was doing no such thing with his wide smirk; and Chris had abandoned any further 'professional etiquette', in lieu of putting his arm instantly around his girlfriend's waist and giving her a quick squeeze at the older woman's stumble, accompanied by a wink.**

**Chuck shook his head briefly on seeing this all take place, rolling his eyes. He looked over to see Serena desperately trying to meet his eyes, and repeated the action for her benefit; exhibited enough that he did not, in fact, have prior warning of this little… display, as she most likely assumed. As much as he knew his sister had loathed this as a teenager herself; she knew how much it meant to her mother now, for her grandchildren to be presented in a… well, anything was better than how Serena herself was introduced, but in a more _acceptable_ manner than her own daughter had been at least.**

**He steadfastly refused to meet Lily's eyes, knowing they'd only harbor her disapproving look, followed by a sigh; because really, Eve was too much like Serena had been in her youth for anyone's liking, and she had her father's stubbornness too.**

**The woman picked up from where she left off, but Eve never faltered in her expression: what she had written, how she was being presented; it was exactly as she wanted it to be in that moment, and her smile couldn't have been brighter.**

" – **And granddaughter of Chairwoman Emeritus Lily Bass. She plans to attend Yale before entering the business world, with her father's vast empire as her own."**

**Their was a polite chuckle at these words, and Chuck ducked his head at this, his lips flickering up into an amused smirk; Serena cast him a glance and rolled her eyes dramatically at him, which only made him smirk further.**

"**She will continue to devote her time to the recreational arts, summer in Europe and South Hampton; and party up a storm here in the city."**

**As the introduction ended, with the elder spluttering once more as a muffled commotion broke out, Eve took Chris's hand. She immediately sought out her father's eyes; and Chuck knew he was radiating pride when he saw her. Because really, what father wouldn't be? Eve had just showed them all exactly why it was that she was his daughter; and if they didn't approve of that, she didn't particularly care.**

**She positively glowed as she ascended the stairs towards his place, but she held a growing uncertainness in her eyes as she neared him. Chuck winked at her then, as she reached the summit and watched her face burst into a grin; and breaking free from tradition all together, she threw her arms around her father and fell steadfastly into his secure embrace.**

**Even with her heels on she still fit neatly in his arms, filling that niche by his collarbone. He held her tight, and bent down to kiss her affectionately on the head, murmuring, _"I love you,"_ into her hair; his smile carving the words as easily as his heart skipped a beat with pride.**

**When the father-daughter duo separated, Chris was there holding out his hand; and with a quick nod to the young male, and another wink to his daughter; Eve clasped her hand in his, their fingers entwining, and he watched the couple as they walked away together.**

**Needless to say, he'd missed most of his niece's introduction; but Chuck still managed to catch the end of it.**

**The elder woman seemed to be stuttering once again, and when she continued, Chuck realized instantly why, with the words: "She plans to take a gap year to travel and paint the towns in Europe as red as her new Louboutins, while continuing her campaign for world domination."**

**Another chuckle escaped his lips at these words, and he watched as Lily threw her head back in exasperation releasing a groan and shooting a look at her two eldest children in quick succession.**

**Melissa ascended the steps with her brother by her side and grinned at her mother, who simply rolled her eyes at the pair of them. Her Uncle had an unmistakable smirk on his face when his niece and nephew passed him by as he stood at the top of the stairs, even if he did shake his head at them both.**

**Needless to say, the quartet danced the night away, before disappearing under the canvas of the midnight sky: with his home as the end destination, naturally.**

**When he wandered into his kitchen the next morning to find his nephew and his daughter's boyfriend sitting at the breakfast bar looking rather worse for wear, he said nothing; taking the moment to be thankful that they had showered away the smell of brewery before gracing his presence. And when he asked where the girls were; he received his answer minutes later when he caught sight of them ushering a freshman out the door mere moments before they presented their gowns to Eleanor for inspection, sharing dazzling smiles as they did so.**

**He couldn't decide which of them was worse; but as he fended off his mother-in-law's suspicious look with a wry smirk, he supposed he should be thankful for small mercies: at least he knew how to deal with the late-night/early-morning antics. They weren't nearly as original as they thought sometimes.**

.

"Well, naturally Lily nearly had a heart-attack what with the apparent conjoined effort of both her granddaughters to try and outdo Serena's introduction to society," Chuck quipped, and mused aloud, "Think it was one of the few times she had sympathy for her own mother."

And then suddenly snapping out of his thoughts, he turned to look at Blair.

"So, now that we've traipsed down memory lane, care to tell me what you're doing here?" he _requested_, though his expectant raise of the eyebrow told her otherwise.

"Sure you don't need another drink?" she taunted.

Chuck's gaze hardened, and he remarked, "If you plan on using my drinking as a way of getting to Eve, you're highly misinformed. I'm far from an alcoholic, and reports will show that my record is superfluous."

Blair scoffed at this, throwing a roll of the eyes his way too, but he carried on regardless.

"After all, GQ asks only those worthy of gracing its pages to cover their Father's Day spread. And it just so happened that Eve and I fell into that category, what with the fact I received a Man of the Year award and all – you know, I'm surprised you didn't pick up a copy on your… _travels_," Chuck quipped, smirking at her, though his eyes remained unreadable. "I've been told on numerous occasions how my work has inspired others – not to mention how '_completely stunning_' the photos are of the pair of us."

"I'm sure," she responded though a tight smile, before taking a seat on one of the couches and proposing, "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

"If you insist," he agreed, leisurely mimicking her action: leaning back languidly against the throw cushions, glass held loosely in his grasp, and right leg bent at a right angle and resting on his left.

He looked every bit the man at ease, as if he had nothing to worry about, as if nothing could touch him. Just because he might not necessarily feel that way, didn't mean he wouldn't proclaim such to the world around him.

"I wanted to discuss Eve with you, and the matter of whether or not I would be permitted to see her," Blair phrased it as delicately as she could; unsure of how exactly Chuck would respond, after all his temperamental-ness was not a trait that seemed to have subsided in recent years.

"Look, Blair, as much as I dislike you being here, I can't stop you from seeing Eve," he told her matter-of-factly; effectively cutting off anything else she was going to say. "She's too – "

"Stubborn like her parents?" Blair supplied, with a small wry smile.

"I prefer bloody-minded, and it's damn annoying," Chuck rephrased and went back to his earlier point, "But regardless of that, you need to understand that this… introduction back into our lives; it's not going to be easy."

"Yes, I gathered as much from the little tête-à-tête after dinner the other night; not to mention that lovely insight into our daughter's feelings for me _during_ the meal itself," Blair commented scathingly. "Nice of you to stay for that, by the way."

He merely shot the same derisive look back at her, and replied, "My pleasure."

She looked decidedly put out, and in that moment Chuck found it really didn't bother him much at all.

"She's going to want answers, Blair," he told her then. "And our daughter wasn't gifted with the patience of her father."

Blair scoffed at this, and shot him a look.

"I'm just saying," Chuck expanded. "That if you're not willing to give her what she needs; then soon she's going to start looking elsewhere – if she hasn't begun already."

"She wouldn't," the brunette choked out then, a stricken look on her face.

"Why? Might she actually stumble upon something?" he queried, eyeing her closely.

"No," she returned. "But things like certain _sightings in Connecticut last year_ could paint a picture that is far from the truth."

Chuck's jaw clicked at these words as he told her in a clipped tone, "Then I suggest you find a way to give her the truth before you do even more damage with your return than you did in your absence."

An uneasy silence passed over them then and for a long while neither said a word.

Of course, when the place soon became occupied by what seemed to Blair like a small army; her curiosity got the better of her.

"Who are they?" she questioned; looking through the doorway and nodding in acknowledgment of the ant-trail ascending the staircase carrying various pieces of what looked like mirrored-furniture.

"We're redecorating," was Chuck's short reply.

"Oh," Blair voiced at that.

"Yes."

"So where is our daughter, if she's not here?" she inquired after another prolonged spell of stressed quiet.

"Well, she _was_ out with her cousin perfecting the art of retail therapy and trying to see just how much use she could get out of my Gold Card before it self-combusted," Chuck told her, giving her a look she couldn't quite distinguish. "But now, as it's officially Saturday night, so she's at her grandparents."

She didn't react to this piece of information, which seemed to spark something in him if his next look was anything to go by.

He raised an amused eyebrow and asked her, "Or had you forgotten about that particular practice too?"

"I didn't realize she still did that," Blair answered, rolling her shoulders somewhat and trying to hide the flush in her cheeks. "I would have thought at her age she'd have been out painting the town red or… getting up to the sort of things we did when we were Seniors."

"Naturally," Chuck conceded, and smirked at her then. "Why do you think she chooses to return to a home _Lily_ inhabits, rather than come home here? She knows if her grandfather says anything she can sweet-talk him round, and failing that, her grandmother will. With me, she's on her own."

Blair let out a small laugh at that and they shared a moment of truce, a small smile playing across both of their lips.

.

"Oh, Blair," Lily greeted when she entered saw the other woman. "What a lovely surprise."

"Lily," Blair returned with a smile.

"I'm afraid if you're here to see Evangeline, she's not here," the elder told her then.

"Yes, I'm beginning to become familiar with that notion," the brunette murmured.

"I take it you paid a visit to Charles then?" Lily asked her, leading the younger female over to the seating area in the vast living room.

"Yes, I did," Blair replied, inclining her head.

"And how did that go?" the blonde inquired, smiling. "Evangeline didn't report any new breakages."

"We remained civil – for the most part," the brunette replied, an enigmatic look on her face.

"And I don't know about any _new_ breakages, but Chuck seemed to be refurnishing his house with items that are just asking to be damaged."

"Oh really?" the elder raised an eyebrow at this.

"Yes, there was practically a small army of men carrying furniture up and down those stairs; and it was all mirrored too. Stunning, I'll admit, but maybe not the best idea if Eve's as accident prone as I remember she used to be as a child," Blair commented then.

"Mmm… " Lily murmured, apparently musing over this.

"Anyway, Chuck and I talked, and we agreed on a level of civility with Eve or in company; but, well… we've always been rather fiery together, so we made no promises concerning our behavior towards one another in sole company," she continued.

"So, you're here to talk to Evangeline about your decision?" the elder surmised.

"Yes, that's about right," Blair replied.

"Well, she and Bart should be getting back soon. Mass ended nearly half an hour ago and they never linger too long or they'll be late for Sunday Lunch," Lily told her with a gracious smile.

"Ah, yes, _Mass_," the brunette repeated. "They still go then, even after these years?"

"Of course," she responded. "Bart doesn't take too kindly to having to reschedule his engagements, no matter what they are; and Evangeline knows better than to disappoint."

"That she does," Blair agreed, nodding.

.

**Blair remembered the exact moment her husband had told her he wanted their daughter to be Baptized. She'd instantly laughed, and then upon seeing the serious look on his face had _instantly_ _sobered,_ her laughter trickling to a stop.**

"**You're serious?" she questioned, eyeing him.**

"**Of course," he replied simply.**

"**But – why?" Blair asked. "I mean; you don't even go to Church. Well… except for when we got married, but still… "**

"**I might not practice, and I'll be the first to admit I barely follow the way of Jesus, but it was important to my mother; and I think it'd be important to my father too," Chuck told her.**

**She considered his answer, could hear the logic in it, but it was his next remark that tipped the scales.**

"**It's important to me, Blair," he added then softly, pressing the question to her lips as he kissed her.**

"**Alright, ok," she answered breathlessly. "If it means that much to you."**

"**It does."**

**And she had nodded her consent, giving him a small smile; and his eyes shone as a low, "_Thank you_," spilled from his lips.**

**.**

**Of course, if she had known that Bart Bass would be the one to take her daughter to Church every Sunday she would have saved her previous laughter for that moment.**

**Her husband returned home to tell her the news, and her response had been a raise of the eyebrow and an incredulous look directed straight at him.**

**Somehow she could not imagine _Big Bad Bart Bass_ pushing a baby buggy even down a hallway nevermind into a Church. She also couldn't imagine him disregarding any other aide: butlers, maids, nannies, but he did that too.**

**In fact, for every Sunday of her life, Eve Bass's grandfather took her to Church, walked her down the center aisle till they reached their usual pew, and then sat next to her.**

**He taught her to respect the House of God in a way few other children her age followed, and managed to instill a Faith in her so strong that it seemed nothing could ever even come close to wavering her in her belief.**

**And throughout it all, Blair found herself being grateful for this small gift extended to her and her daughter, and even to her husband, from her father-in-law. He was not a man known for over-zealous or abundant showings of affection, but this simple act of taking his granddaughter to Church every week and giving her something to believe in above all else was something Blair felt went above and beyond any material gift he could have presented her with; or possibly even any words to reflect said affection. **

**Bart Bass's relationship with his youngest granddaughter was sealed the moment he heard the Priest utter the words, "Evangeline Lillian Bass, I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost."**

**And it was sustained through the years by a Faith that ran deeper than any other; because it had been presented with the utmost love and attention, and continued to function in the only way they both knew how: with everything they had to give.**

.

Blair was broken out of her reverie by her father-in-law and her daughter walking through the door together.

Before Eve could do anything bar give her mother a raised eyebrow after her grandfather's greeting, Lily smiled politely at them and asked to speak with her granddaughter.

Bart escorted his daughter-in-law into the living area once more and they exchanged a few words before his cell rang and with a short apology, he left her to her own devices; which she took full advantage of, naturally.

She was walking along the corridor, staring up at the artwork adorning the walls and unable to resists dragging a finger or two along the edge of many of the surfaces too when she heard voices. As she drew ever nearer, their volume increased, and before she knew it she was standing listening in on a private discussion between her daughter and mother-in-law; and she simply couldn't turn away.

"Evangeline Bass!" Lily scolded.

"You missed out _'Lillian'_, Grandma," Eve quipped in return, and Blair could see her father's smirk adorning those perfect lips of hers.

"Don't get smart with me young lady," the elder reprimanded. "I've had just about enough of it."

Lily was stricter, more aware, as a grandparent than she'd even been as a parent, and it showed.

"Now, what's this I hear about your father _redecorating_?" Lily's voice was expectant, but had a hard edge to it; she wasn't pleased.

"He decided it needed to be done; and if you have a problem with that, Grandma, then I suggest you speak with him," Eve merely replied, unperturbed by her grandmother's behavior or tone of voice; Blair suspected she'd had a lifetime of dealing with the likes of the Bass family in this way, not to mention more than a few years with Blair herself.

"This has got to stop, Evangeline. This… this recklessness of yours. You're going to get yourself hurt – "

"I won't!" Eve told her adamantly, if a little too forcefully.

" – or someone else," Lily ended with a raised eyebrow at her granddaughter. "And I'm not sure which would be worse, are you?"

The teenager's head was bowed, and when she raised her eyes to tell her grandmother, that no: she wasn't being reckless, it just happened, and she couldn't control it and she was sorry, and – yes: of course she knew which would be worse, because there was only a select few people that would be close enough to her to actually _get_ hurt, and she loved them more than anything, and – she saw her mother's eyes staring back at her.

Eve narrowed her gaze suddenly, and growled low in her throat; diverting Lily's attention to whatever it was that was making her granddaughter behave in such a way; although she had a sneaking suspicion she knew what had caused the sudden change. Her thoughts were confirmed when she clapped eyes on Blair, standing by the doorway, suddenly looking like a deer-in-headlights.

"Get a good listen then?" the teenager gritted out. "Where do you get off eavesdropping on other people's conversations anyway?"

"No, that's not what I was doing," the elder countered, desperately trying to resolve the situation. "I didn't mean to walk in on – "

"Save it," the younger brunette dismissed, with a hard look and then brushed by her mother with the remark, "Word of advice: doing things like this? Not going to help your cause any."

"She's right, you know, Blair," Lily told her, as she watched her granddaughter leave, though her tone was more sympathetic.

"I know," Blair responded. "I truly didn't mean to do it, but Bart had to take a call and so I started wandering around; I was only admiring the new décor, I swear; but then – "

"Then you heard your lovely daughter's voice piercing the air, and you simply couldn't resist hearing the words that flowed from those lips," Lily interjected.

"Something like that," the brunette conceded.

The elder nodded, and then catching sight of the maid by the door, she said, "Well, our lunch is served, and my apologies, Blair, but after what just happened, I think it might be best if we allow things to simmer down before you make your presence known once more."

"Of course," Blair agreed and bid the blonde farewell before making her way out; completely aware she was being scrutinized beneath the ever-watchful eye of the butler standing nearby.

There were far too many people painting her the villain for her liking. She knew she'd made mistakes, but wasn't what her daughter was being taught every week all founded on _forgiveness_?

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

A/N: "You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today." – Abraham Lincoln

I'll post the next chapter tomorrow night or thurs morn – most likely the latter – and might not be able to post again for a short while.  
Also, apologies for the slowness, it will pick up after this and the next chapter definitely – well to my mind anyway, so hopefully it'll be to yours too ;)

Hope you liked it.  
Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought – is welcome, btw, it does help me improve my writing (or I try to use it to at least ;) ) and it's always good to know what my readers are feeling – good or bad  
Steph  
xxx


	8. Can't Catch Tomorrow

A/N: The title of this chapter is inspired by the Lostprophets song of the same name.

Also, the dresses used are both Jovani dresses. **Eve's** is style 155745165 and **Mel's** is B196241200. 

Oh, and in the second part, **Eve's** wearing a Stella McCartney dress called: 'Rhumba Sleeve Sweater Dress Ink'. It's sold in Bergdorf Goodman and it's on the website if you wanna check it out ;) Oh and I realize it wouldn't actually be part of this collection seeing as this story is set MANY years later, but… meh, work with me here 

And in the third part, **Eve's** wearing a dress by Black Halo, which can be found here: /203056co.html

And in the fourth part, **Eve's** wearing a dress by Yoana Baraschi, which can be found here: /5d49.html and **Mel's** wearing a dress by Jovani, style 155118200.

Ok, so this is a majorly long chapter – like, one of the longest I've ever written probably. And it definitely should've been cut down, but meh, it staying – think of it as an extra long update incase I can't post the next one for a few days.

Hope you enjoy…

* * *

Chapter Seven: Can't Catch Tomorrow

_"To be a parent without an assistant is hard work."  
**William J. Temple**_

-

Chuck was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, conversing easily with his brother, Eric, and his partner, Will; when his daughter's silhouette passed by the door.

"Going somewhere?" he called out, amused.

He heard her heels come to a stop a few steps past the doorway, and then she reappeared before him moments later, inside the room this time.

"We're going out," she told him simply, making her way towards him, and reaching down to readjust the back of her heel on her foot as she did so.

"And should I expect to see you later on tonight?" Chuck asked her.

"Yeah, 'course," Eve replied easily.

And then with a smirk and an amused raise of the eyebrow, she teased, "Don't I always come home to you, Daddy?"

Eric raised his eyebrows at his brother then, when he saw his niece.

Silver five-inch stiletto heels raised her usual five foot three stature and elongated her already stunning figure. Her dress was royal blue and set off her dark, smoky eyes perfectly. It had an empire bodice, and the bust-line was shirred and the skirt gathered, and it was in an A-line style. The part that had his eyes nearly popping out of his skull, however, was the shimmering silver halter neckline, which descended into a keyhole right in the center of the bust.

He supposed he should be thankful for small mercies that she wasn't one to wear the extremely tight-fitting dresses, even though her figure would undoubtedly allow for it; she left that to her cousin. And then it suddenly hit Eric that Chuck wasn't reacting quite like he himself was at this moment; he briefly wondered if this was how Dan Humphrey felt every time Mel descended the stairs before an evening out on the town, or indeed simply every time Mel descended the stairs. She was prone to pushing the boundaries; like mother like daughter.

"Don't wait up though, I'll be late in," Eve said next, leaning forward to place a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she fixed the same heel once more.

"Late in _alone_?" Chuck returned, with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive look.

"Meh," was all the teenager said to that, rolling her shoulders; completely ignoring anything else he was trying to do then.

And then shooting him a smirk she patted him on the shoulder as she straightened herself, and commented, "We'll see."

He rolled his eyes at her, and turned his head to the side, picking up his drink from the countertop.

Striding confidently away: sashaying in that elegant, yet far too alluring, way that she was prone to, she called back, "Love you Daddy."

"Right back at you, beautiful," Chuck replied easily, smirking as he raised his glass to her.

Eve turned her head to flash him a brilliant smile and he winked at her.

"Hey babe!" Chris's voice called out then, causing Eve to turn at the sound.

And a moment later, a jacket was soaring through the air from his hands to hers.

She smiled, despite herself, and put the coat on, raising a hand up to stroke his cheek tenderly when he reached her, telling him, "Why thank you, handsome."

"I didn't say anything," Chuck defended when he saw the look both Eric and Will were giving him. "I did not say a thing."

"He's right, he didn't," Eve agreed, with a roll of the eyes, as she turned to face them. "He's just got my boy well trained."

"And rightly so," her father added in, smirking at Chris above his daughter's head.

"I'll have her back here safe and sound, Mr. Bass," Chris promised the elder, with a nod and a smile; his arms tightening round his girlfriend's waist in the slightest of movements that her father caught onto.

"I wouldn't expect any less," was all Chuck murmured, dipping his head in acknowledgement, and returning the smile with a small semblance of his own.

Chris then took Eve's hand in his and started to lead her out the door, holding up a single hand as a goodbye to the men.

"Have fun!" Chuck called out.

"Always," Eve promised, glancing back at him, and with that mischievous twinkle of her father's glinting in her eye.

Her smirk widened as she caught sight of the trio of elders then and she couldn't resist saying, "Uncle Eric, lift your jaw or Uncle Will's going to think you've got something to tell him; in fact, so will Dad."

And then with a laugh, and a wink, the couple was gone.

Chuck let out a scoff at Eric's eyes, still wide even after Eve had left, and commented, "If you think that's bad, you should have seen what Melissa was wearing. Humphrey's gonna have fun with that one."

"Oh, how I'd have paid to be a witness to that," he commented, not even bothering to try and hide his amusement.

And with a smirk, he took a gulp of his drink, and downed the remaining Scotch in one.

From beside him, Will stifled a small laugh with a cough, while Eric shot his look from his partner to his sibling.

"I'm more surprised by the fact that you let her go out like that!" the younger man exclaimed.

His brother rolled his shoulders. "She has Chris," he said as if that was explanation enough; and with the fiery protective streak the boy held for Eve, Eric supposed it sort of was.

"Besides, she's a damn sight more covered up than some of the females she goes out with; I doubt they'll be looking at her when there's ones like her cousin around to distract their wandering eyes. I can't believe her brother goes out with her like that!"

"You do realize that's your niece you're talking about," Eric commented then.

Will had wisely chosen to remain quiet beside the two, merely observing them. He had been with Eric long enough to know when it was best to simply sit these 'family discussions' out and watch in silence: a prime example being the family dinner the previous week.

"Of course," Chuck replied simply. "But that doesn't mean I can't comment on another man's misfortune, now does it?"

And picking up his glass, already refilled thanks to Will's ingenious idea to provide each man with further liquor, he sidled into the adjoining room, and languidly took a seat on a wide expanse offered by one of the couches.

-

The door slammed open some hours later, and the shouting that could be easily heard outside the walls of the home suddenly gained clarity, and grew even more in volume.

"I can't _believe_ you got us kicked out!" a voice that all four men sitting in the living area, as _mildly intoxicated_ as they themselves may well have been, recognized instantly as being that which belonged to one Melissa van der Woodson.

"That is so typical of you!" she continued in her rant. "You're always doing stuff like that! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Well, _sorry_ if I think my sister's selling herself out as a whore and I try and step in to stop some random sleaze trying it on with you right in the middle of the dance floor!" her brother's voice practically roared back in response to that.

"Guys!" Eve's voice joined in then. "Little help here?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," was the sudden, jolted response at that, followed by another string of apologies.

"Thanks," the brunette awarded them, just as they stepped through the threshold into the living room. "And you think you could keep your voices down just a _little_?"

Needless to say, eyes certainly popped when the two parties set their sights on one another.

"Yes, there are other people to consider in this household, you know," came the quip in response to the teenager's words, surprisingly from her Uncle Will of all people; who was looking at Eve with the same expectant, though slightly amused, expression as her father, and the other two men currently occupying the space.

There, standing in the archway entrance to the large living area, was the teenage quartet. Eve had Chris's arm slung over her shoulders and her petite frame held him up as she positioned herself close enough to him that he was practically on top of her. Both Hunter and Melissa were on the other side; the male trying to fulfill the same job as his brunette counterpart, but failing rather miserably, whether due to his own stumbling and vague coherent-ness or because his sister was actually being more of a hindrance than a help in her attempt to lend aid also.

Eve looked about ready to collapse, and Chris's head was hanging dangerously low against his chest.

"Uncle Nate? Uncle Will?" Eve asked then, raising her eyes to meet theirs as she struggled under the load of her boyfriend, and her two unhelpful cousins. "Any time you want to lend a hand would be just _super_!"

"You know, I should be more offended by your insinuation that I'm worthless in that little quest of yours to lug the dead-weight of your boyfriend over to one of my ridiculously expensive sofas," Chuck told her then. "But I'm not."

"Nate, Will," he prompted then, ignoring the fact that both men had already jumped into action. "You go do your macho thing. I'll go do my 'fetch the invalid a clean set of clothes' thing. And Eric can do his healing thing."

And with that he began his own path to his destination; pausing only to place a hand on Chris's shoulder as he reached him, and bend down to whisper, "Get blood on my new couch and I'll break your jaw myself."

Then he flashed the boy a smile and went off to rummage his closet for something for him to wear; preferably black, as he'd rather not ruin more of his belongings than he had to.

Chuck returned to the room several minutes later to find his brother tending to Chris on his very new, and very white, sofa while his daughter sat holding his hand next to him. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the far more interesting scene that revolved around his niece and nephew holding a screaming match on the other side of the makeshift Triage; with Nate standing observing them, arms crossed defensively across his chest and a wary look on his face.

"No wonder those guys were trying it on with you – You look like one of the girls in Uncle Chuck's strip clubs!"

"Hey!" was the protest from the man himself at that. "_Burlesque_ clubs."

An then with a rueful smile he turned to his niece and told her, "And take it from me; you don't look like one of the girls; you're too overdressed for one."

Melissa's face fell into an expression of sheer disbelief.

Chuck surveyed her. She was wearing a black cocktail dress that had quite the plunging neckline; not to mention the material mainly consisted of sheer lace. There was elaborate beadwork and scrolling along the neck and midriff, a fine lace overlay and cut out lace hemline. Needless to say: it was another of his niece's dress's that could come under the term 'risqué'.

"And naturally, you're worth far more than any of them; in class and… everything else," Chuck added airily when he saw the look on her face, flashing her a slight smile, before walking by her and making his way across to where his daughter was.

He grimaced when his eyes caught onto the damage.

Chris's face was a mass of blood that Eric still hadn't been able to wipe fully clean. There was a deep vertical cut straight through his right eyebrow, and his lip was split. A slice in his cheek was probably oozing more blood than anything else, and it had already started to blossom a shadow of blue and purple. He was shaking, and his eyes were unfocused, and angry red finger lines marred the skin of his neck.

But all Chuck could see was his daughter's hand in his.

"It looks worse than it is," Eric assured him.

"I'm sure," he merely murmured in response.

And then turning to his daughter, he questioned, "What happened to your hand?"

"What?" Eve asked, looking up at him with confusion in her eyes.

"Your hand," Chuck clarified. "You're bleeding, and even without extensive Medical training I can tell you that the skin over your knuckle is not, in fact, supposed to be split like that."

"You hit someone didn't you?"

Eve didn't even bother denying it, and that was when he saw the tracks of her tears. Mascara bleed into her foundation and the rims of her eyes were as red as the marks on her boyfriend's neck.

"He wouldn't let him go," Eve whispered hoarsely, and he saw stark desperation reflected in her eyes.

And in an instant Chuck was next to her, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her into him; her tears dampening his shirt as he shushed her quietly, one hand sweeping the errant hairs from her face, and the other rubbing circles on her spine.

"I'm taking her into the next room to clean up," Chuck told them simply, leaving no room for discussion.

"No, I don't want to leave him – " Eve started to say, concern etched deeply into her features as she glanced from her father to her boyfriend and back to her father again.

"You're coming with me, now, and I'll not hear another word to the contrary," he instructed, and stood up, hand still in hers to help her do the same; and after a few moments of reluctance Eve squeezed Chris's hand and told him she'd be back soon before allowing her father to lead her into the next room.

…

"So, what was it this time?" Chuck asked, as he balanced on the balls of his feet, knees bent, and crouched before his daughter.

"Some guy leering at you? Someone making a suggestive comment?" he continued, each word punctuated with a dab at her hand with a cotton swab.

"Not that I _really_ want to know what lecherous old men are saying about my daughter, but – who am I kidding, spill it, now."

She hissed when the antiseptic seeped its way inside the broken skin across her knuckles.

"Actually, it was neither of those things. In fact, it wasn't to do with me at all. It was Mel," Eve told him, straightening out her hand once more when he tugged at it so she wouldn't pull away; he wasn't finished yet.

"Is that so?" He didn't even raise his head at the words.

"Yeah, some guys were hassling her and Hunter wasn't exactly helping due to the fact that as soon as he appeared next to them, him and Mel practically started ripping each others heads off, so Chris stepped in."

"And how is it that your dear cousin managed to escape without any injuries while Christopher is currently dyeing my nice new sofa a deep color of crimson?" Chuck asked, raising his eyes to meet his daughter's, stretching a piece of gauze across the plane of her hand and securing it with some tape.

"Because Chris told me to get Mel out of there, and when I couldn't, he told me to get them both out of there; which helped significantly since Hunter just picked Mel up round the middle and carried her out."

"And when I looked back… the bouncers were trying to pull them apart. Hunter suddenly jumped in, screaming at them: about Chris or Mel, I'm not quite sure; and… well, the guy wouldn't get off Chris so… "

"You punched him," Chuck ended, reemerging from through the doorway where he'd been putting the medical kit back in its place.

"Yeah…" Eve trailed off.

"And?" he asked then, with a raised eyebrow.

"And nothing? That's what happened," his daughter replied.

"I don't think so," Chuck said haughtily, a smirk playing across his lips. "I think there's something else you're not telling me."

He pushed off the doorframe and walked towards her. Watching her carefully under hooded eyes, her head bowed under the weight; and eventually she whispered, "I can't be mad."

"Can't be mad about what?" he asked, intrigued.

"Mel," Eve replied, looking up to meet his eyes. "And Chris."

Chuck's eyebrows rose at this declaration, and he tilted his head to survey his daughter.

"She kissed him," Eve said.

"But I can't be mad because she's drunk off her ass, and I know she doesn't feel like that _really_, it was just like – I don't know, a thank you kiss or something because he saved her from those guys that started groping her and whatever," she was rambling; and Chuck had to stop himself from smiling at this.

"And I can't be mad at Chris 'cos I know he doesn't like her in that way, and he loves me, and he pushed her away, but…" Eve continued. "It's just – "

"Wish you'd hit that guy harder?" Chuck supplied, with a raised eyebrow.

Eve nodded, muttering, "Or had cause to hit someone else."

Her father smirked lightly and took a few steps forward, coming to stop in front of his daughter, and crouching down before her once more, taking her hands in his.

"Did she mean it?" he asked.

"To kiss him?" Eve replied, and he nodded.

"I don't know," she admitted then. "I mean, you know what she's like; and she's twice as bad when she's out drinking and whatever like she was earlier, as I'm sure you know as well."

"Unfortunately, I do," Chuck agreed, with a dip of the head.

"But, I don't – " Eve started, and then stopped herself, shaking her head. "No, I don't think she meant to kiss him, well, not like she did anyway. And I know Chris didn't want to 'cos he actually looked rather horrified at the thought; and it wasn't just because I might've seen them – though with those little minions of Gossip Girl's that was entirely possible anyway, regardless of whether I was near them at the time or not."

"He loves me, Daddy, and I love him; and – it's just a misunderstanding," she told him. "We can get past it, it doesn't have to mean anything, it – "

The message tone on her phone snapped her from conscious thought, and she stole a glance at her screen as she wrenched it open.

**Spotted: **_**Melissa van der Woodson**_** living up to her man-eater ways; but wait, that's not just any man she's currently swapping saliva with, it's **_**E**_**'s. Wonder what cousin dearest will say when she realizes **_**M**_**'s set to dig her claws into her beau? But then you know what they say: the family that plays together stays together.  
****Maybe you should let them have their fun, **_**E**_**; after all, word has it your family needs all the help it can get in staying together.**

**You know you love me.  
****xoxo  
****Gossip Girl**

Her face hardened as she read it, and she cried out, "Oh for the love of – "

"Maybe I should invest in a punch bag," Chuck mused allowed then.

Eve shot him a look, before her expression took on that of a half-hearted smile in gratefulness.

"As long as your cousin doesn't choose Chris as the boy to… _change her ways_, then I'm sure you'll be fine," he said to her then, giving her a small smile of reassurance.

And then standing up, he asked, "Ready to go back in?"

She shook her head, "I just need a few minutes, I'll be in soon."

He nodded and made for the door, opening it in one swift move. Pausing as he straddled the threshold then, Chuck turned back to face his daughter.

"Evie," he addressed, and she looked back up at the sound of her father's voice.

"I've seen the way Chris looks at you," her father commented. "It's the same way your mother used to look at me."

"And point to note," Chuck added then, with a smirk. "Nobody stood a chance after that look was set; not even your Uncle Nate."

Eve broke into a wide smile at that, and her father winked at her, before turning and leaving her to her thoughts.

…

"Hunter!" Chuck's voice reverberated off the walls as he addressed his nephew.

"What's this I hear about you not even fighting your own battles now?" he commented to the teenager, tutting at him, and shaking his head.

"That's the part of your father in you," Chuck told him then before the younger could retort.

And then with a smug smirk he said, "We Bass men always fight our own battles."

There was a cough from Eric and a scoff from Nate at that.

Chuck whirled round to shoot them both with a glare and the words, "Hey! I have long defended your actions; not to mention put my own body in harm's way to remain loyal to you ungrateful sods."

"That's certainly true," Will awarded him then, nodding in recognition of such a fact, after a moment of contemplating; and looked at the others expectedly.

Eric relented, holding up his hands defensively, and nodding his agreement at his partner's words.

Nate nodded also then, sharing a look with the two younger men, before his voice took on that of the utmost sincerity and he said, "I apologize, Chuck. If you are the example, then I _wholly_ agree; Bass men do indeed fight their own battles."

"_Thank you_," Chuck awarded.

"And word of advice here, Christopher," he swiveled on his heel to direct at the young man currently still sitting on his sofa. "A van der Woodson may have sway; but a Bass has staying power. And trust me when I say, you _do not_ want to piss off my daughter."

The blonde opened his mouth to answer, but the elder cut him off with a raised hand.

And turning to the other three men in the room, with a sweeping gesture of the bar, he remarked, "Now, about time for another drink, wouldn't you say?"

…

"I've had one of the guest bedrooms made up for him, he can sleep in there," Chuck informed his daughter as she and her boyfriend made to follow her cousins' path.

"No, he can sleep in my bedroom," was Eve's simple, though adamant, reply.

"No, he'll sleep in the guest."

"Mine."

"Guest."

"Mine."

"Guys! Guys! This is getting us nowhere," Nate acted as mediator this time.

"He's right," Eric joined in, forever the other man's backup.

"He's sleeping in the guest bedroom and that's final," Chuck gritted out then, and turned on his heel and walked out the room.

"Fine, then _I'll _be sleeping in the guest bedroom," Eve said to that, and whirled round to walk out the opposite doorway.

"I'm going to pretend I never heard that," Nate commented.

"That," Eric said to him then, with a small smile, "Would be wise."

…

Eve was lying in bed next to Chris: her head placed on his naked chest, fingers tracing circles across the smooth spans of his skin; while his arms envelop tightly around her petite frame, the fingers of his own hand mapping their own tale across the base of her bare back and her arm.

She shuffled a bit, and he readjusted his arms, tightening his hold on her as she snuggled further into his open embrace; warm and inviting. She wished they could lie like that forever, just like they are; with him holding her.

He seemed to sense the change in her and dipped his head and kissed her temple, her hairline. Her head fit perfectly in the little nook between his neck and shoulder, and he took the moment to wonder if it was meant just for her. Minutes passed, and she looked up to see him watching her.

She readjusted herself in his arms once more, trying to pretend she wasn't ducking under his intense gaze, and then met his eyes.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, you know," Eve told him then, her fingers tracing rings around his heart, encircling it with her signature.

"Well, I promise, that's something you'll never have to find out," Chris said easily in return, and tugged at her waist as he gave her a slight smirk.

She frowned; and her branding made its way, almost unconsciously, upwards to tickle the skin of his neck marked red, as she chastised, "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

He lifted his hand to place it under her chin and raise her head to meet his eyes, which she did after a few moments, and told her fiercely, "You should know I don't make promises I can't keep."

"And I only make promises to you," he ended, staring into her eyes as he implored her to trust him like he knew she needed to.

His answer came in the form of her resting her head on his chest once more and nestling into his arms even further, her fingers resuming their original course as they traced her markings across his very core.

"Do you know why this is my favorite place, my safe place?" she asked through heavy lids, after a short moment of silence, her voice barely a whisper against his skin.

"Why?" he murmured, smiling faintly as his eyes drew over her.

She smiled, and whispered, "Because I can hear your heartbeat."

"And I know that you're here, with me," Eve ended, snuggling closer into him. "Safe."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and a slow smile flittered across her features as his heart beat feverishly.

"I love you, Evie B," Chris told her, a smile breaking through as he used his secret nickname for her and watched her lips curve lazily upwards, her features relax, her body loosen in his grasp.

"And I'm not going anywhere."

-

His daughter and niece were lounging on the large expanse of the sofa, laughing away at something, while Dan was seated at the table, pouring himself into his current writing; or at least, he was trying to. The same incessant thought kept distracting him. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, and he opened his mouth.

"Now, I know this is probably a stupid question to ask, but… is that a sweater or a dress?" Dan asked his niece, eyeing the garment adorning her petite frame, with a slight frown and a cock of the head.

"It's a dress, Uncle Dan," Eve told him, smirking slightly at his obvious non-existent ability to understand fashion, especially female's; even after all these years and the woman who surrounded him. "It's from Stella McCartney's Fall Collection."

"So are you wearing it as a dress or…?" he asked then, nodding at the large expanse of exposed skin resulting from said garment not covering more than half-way down her upper legs, and ignoring the fact he should've probably have known such a thing with the way fashion was discussed in and around his family.

"I'm not quite sure yet," she answered simply, with a lopsided smile, completely unfazed by his obvious discomfort.

"Right, right."

"And it cost how much exactly?" he inquired then.

Eve rolled her shoulders, "Um, fifteen, maybe."

"Fifteen hundred?" Dan questioned then.

"Well, yeah. It's not worth fifteen thousand," she scoffed.

His daughter looked at him like he'd suddenly grown two heads and he sighed, deciding it best to go back to his work; and try and ignore the fact that his niece was currently lounging around on his couch in what appeared to be a single garment that cost nearly twice as much as his monthly rent when he was growing up.

A short while later, his son and his best friend appeared next to the two females and his son called out a simple, "Dad, we're going out."

"Ok, well, where exactly?" Dan questioned then, squinting to look at the time on his watch. "Because it's past ten already, and it is a school night."

"We're going to see a movie, and mom's not gonna back till late – or early depending how you look at it – so you'll be off the hook on that front," Hunter winked at his father.

Dan watched his eldest son smirking widely as he then threw a pair of knee-high boots at his cousin with the words, "Go wild": the prospect of wearing said boots the apparent cause of her squeal of excitement; and realized in that moment how alike his son was, not to him, but to Chuck. He blanched at the thought.

"I want you home after the film," he told his children then.

"We were actually thinking of crashing at Eve's; it's closer, and the rooms are always made up so…" Melissa replied.

"Home, as soon as the film finishes, no going out after, no going for something to eat, home," Dan then told them.

"What? Dad, what is this? What if we get hungry? Thirsty?" Hunter tried.

Mel knocked her brother on the arm to quiet him, and remarked, "Don't worry, Hunt, he's just being stupid – you're completely transparent, Dad."

"Excuse me?" her father questioned then, raising his eyebrows at his daughter.

"Dad, you're never normally like this, it's just 'cos mom's not here to tell you you're being ridiculous – so I've decided to take it upon myself to do it for her this time," Mel told him matter-of-factly.

"While that may well be the case, I'm not being ridiculous when I say you need to put something else on," he directed at his daughter.

"Well, obviously," Melissa stated, already moving to retrieve her coat from where she'd dropped it onto a nearby armchair not even an hour prior.

"Right, and… Eve?" Dan ventured then.

"What?" the brunette merely questioned in response, turning to face her uncle at the words.

"Aren't you going to put something else on?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I've got a woolen dress and thick leather boots on, I think I'll survive," Eve told him, and then rolled her eyes.

"Borrow something of Mel's – or take Chris's jacket," he simply replied.

"Dad," Mel addressed. "Chris's jacket? Over mine? That's so… mid-town."

Dan rolled his eyes, realizing he would never understand women and their fashion; no matter how much Serena and the rest of his family tried to immerse him in it.

"She's right, I'd just borrow one of hers since I'm here," Eve continued. "But for you Uncle Dan, I suppose I could stretch to my _dear_ _boyfriend's jacket_."

Mel eyed her best friend at that, looking like she wanted to say something, but her cousin plastered a smile on her face as she added, "If it'll make your Dad happy – "

"What would make me happy," Dan cut in then. "Is if my daughter returned from one of your shopping trips with something more than the tiniest piece of thin fabric as her newest outfit for the next party."

"Think that says more about your daughter than her shopping buddy," Hunter muttered then, shooting a smirk at his sister when she threw him a glare.

"Alright," was the simple response.

"What?" the elder asked; suddenly baffled.

"Next time we go shopping, I'll make sure Melissa returns with something that's suitable to your requirements of – ?"

Startled, it took Dan a moment to answer with, "No low scoop neck-line, and the hem has to pass at least mid-thigh – and no strapless either."

"Sleeveless allowed?" She raised an eyebrow; hand on hip, popped, and looking expectantly at him; completely unfazed.

"Thick straps only."

"Alright."

"And what about you?" Dan questioned then, watching her carefully.

"What about me?" Eve questioned, jutting out her jaw defiantly.

"Well, are you participating in this or just Mel?"

"Fine, I'll do it too. In fact, I'll go a stage further and say that _every_ outfit I purchase this week for myself _or_ Mel will fit your requirements, how about that?" She haughtily raised an eyebrow, as she fit him with an expectant, though smug, look.

"And if you do this? What do you get in return?" Dan asked, his eyes scrutinizing the teenager.

Eve smirked then, a true Bass smirk, as she stated her terms, "I get to choose Mel's outfit for my birthday, for Christmas and New Years, and Aunt Serena gets final decision on the rest of her outfits."

"As if that doesn't happen anyway," Hunter muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Are we in agreement?" the brunette asked his father, ignoring her cousin's comment entirely.

"We are," Dan conceded, and they shook on the matter.

"Well, now that that's sorted, can we please go?" Melissa questioned then, staring at them both with an expectant, but impatient, look on her features.

"Yeah, sure," the elder allowed, before asking, "So, I'll see you tomorrow after school?"

"You know it, Dad," Hunter replied, grinning, as he started towards the exit with the others making their move also.

"Eve, the coat?" Dan prompted.

But with a smirk then, she simply held out the previously offered jacket to her boyfriend, commenting at that, "I think you'll find that even without it, I'm the most covered up person in this room, Uncle Dan."

And as he surveyed the rest of the room's occupants: his daughter in her mini dress, coat and heels; both his son and his son's best friend in jeans and a shirt, sleeves rolled up past the elbows and open collar; and he, himself, in the same; he realized, begrudgingly, that she was correct.

She flashed him a brilliant smile at that, and with a tug of the hand, she and Chris made towards the door, Hunter and Melissa following right behind.

They'd just opened the door, the couple already through the threshold, their best friend straddling the line, when the blonde stopped and turned to her father.

"And for the record, Dad, half the time Uncle Chuck's not even in when we get to his; so his influence on us isn't as monumental as you assume," Melissa told her father, a smirk to match her brother's playing across her lips. "Though maybe you should cut down on those Bass family lunches you and mom insist on us attending if you're that worried."

…

"You do realize you've just signed us up for social ruin, don't you?" Melissa said to her cousin, as soon as they'd stepped out of her father's earshot.

"How do you propose we find outfits, that fit my father's criteria, _and_ avoid looking like stupid lowly freshman who are still discovering that dressing like their mothers is, in fact, _not_ a good statement to be making at a party – or any other time, for that matter?" she rattled off, flustered and annoyed at the turn of events; and the repercussions for her, which she'd not even had a _single_ say in – unbelievable, truly.

"Simple," Eve rolled her shoulders. "We go to the usual, and do our thing. It's not like your dad set a price limit either; but like that would really matter, since I _swear_ his eye for fashion has seriously deteriorated since last season."

"Besides," she continued. "There's always loopholes. Like with this dress, for instance, I do believe a couple of inches longer and it fits in with what you father's expecting perfectly."

Melissa eyed her cousin for a moment, before conceding with a smile. "Fine, but you know I hate sleeves; and these dresses of yours, they better not be all floaty and… _loose_ like yours. I want them form-fitting, and _flattering_."

"Of course," the brunette appeased easily with a smile.

"Haven't you learned already that you never bet against a Bass?" Eve inquired of her cousin then, her voice teasing as she smirked at her.

And stepping inside the limo, she cast Melissa a backwards glance and remarked with a wink, "We always come out on top in the end."

Which was a good thing because she already had the perfect strapless/plunging mini in mind for Mel to wear for her birthday and a backless wonder for herself.

…

"How is it possible that our niece could be less exposed than our daughter, when all she has on is a sweater, which barely cuts past her mid thigh I might add, and a pair of knee high boots? – which I think might actually be yours," he asked, frowning as he contemplated this, and his wife took a seat next to him on the sofa.

Serena laughed at her husband's confusion, smiling at him as she said, "Aw, baby, did Eve win you over with her logic, again?"

"Yeah, she did," Dan replied, brow furrowed still before he turned his full attention to his wife.

"So, enough about our children; how was your night?"

"Tiring," she answered after a moment, along with a long exhale.

"Really?" Dan inquired.

"I mean, it was fun, sure, but – it's just Blair," Serena told him.

"Ah."

"Yeah," his wife agreed, sharing his look.

"It's just, she's trying _so_ hard, you know?" Serena expanded. "But she's barely got a leg to stand on."

"And I'm not blaming Eve for her behavior, or Chuck – in fact, he's been surprisingly _restrained_ about the whole thing – but… I just have to wonder when they're going to actually give Blair a break and allow her to tell her side."

"Have you spoken to her?" Dan inquired then. "Has she given you any more indication of why she left?"

His wife shook her head. "No, all she'll tell me is the same as she told us the day Eric and Chuck and I met up with her at her mother's."

"But you don't believe her?" he surmised, watching her for her reaction.

"No, I do – it's just…" Serena trailed off.

She raised her head once more and met his eyes instantly. "With Blair there's never just one thing. And you saw her, you spent all the family time that I did with her and Eve, and Chuck; you know as well as I do how much she loved them, doted on Eve."

"Which is why I know that it must have been something huge to really shake her up enough to make her leave all that behind," Serena told him; a mixture of regret and sadness playing with her words.

"I just wish she trusted me enough to tell me what that was so I could help her," she admitted.

"I don't think it's about trust," he replied. "I think it's about being ready."

Serena looked up at him with a curious expression; momentarily wondering if he knew more than he was letting on. She shook the thought from her mind as soon as it formed; there was no way Dan would keep something that important from her, he just wouldn't, he loved her too much to do that to her.

Except three years ago, her stepbrother was thinking the exact same thing; right after his wife walked out the door, leaving he and his daughter behind.

Dan curled his arm around her then, pulling her in towards him, and telling her reassuringly, "Blair's always been one to keep things to herself, until she's ready and willing to allow them to come out in the open; in her way. So she'll tell you when she's ready, and you'll be the amazing friend you've always been to her; and simply _be there_ for her."

"You're right," Serena told him, and rolled her eyes as she added, "Naturally."

"It's just you'd have thought her coming home indicated her being ready to face everything," she murmured. "But evidently not."

He smiled reassuringly at her, kissing the top of her head as he pulled her closer; and felt her arms encircle his frame and hug him just as tightly back.

-

Eve descended the stairs, only to find her father passing by the bottom as he crossed the foyer.

She was wearing something quite… _different_ from her usual. The dress was a nice cobalt blue color, which complimented her perfectly; but it was more to do with the length and fit that made this unlike all the other dresses she owned. It had an asymmetrical neckline and slight cowl neck; which only served to further add to its elegant look, with its small cap sleeves and tea-length, along with the narrow belt that adorned her middle.

"Wow," he stated on sight of his daughter, as she came to a stop on the bottom step before him. "You look very… "

"Conservative? Like I'm _mom_?" Eve supplied with a roll of the eyes. "I know, it's this stupid bet with Uncle Dan."

"I was going to say different, stunning as usual, but _different_," Chuck said, with a slight shrug.

"Right," the teenager scoffed. "I'm not allowed a low neckline, the hem has to cut passed the mid-thigh _at least_, and if it's sleeveless, the straps have to be thick. I've wrangled a few loopholes, but I'm not going to bring out the big guns _just yet_ – and, well, as you can see, this is the result."

"It's a good look on you, Evie," her father reiterated.

"But don't you think you're maybe going a bit overboard with the no low neckline part – you'll be lucky if you can see skin at all. And normally I wouldn't complain, only – I feel for Chris."

And then Chuck suddenly blanched, groaning, "Please tell me I didn't just say that."

Eve grinned, "You did."

And then patting him on the shoulder she said, "But don't worry, this can be classed as one of those father-daughter one-twos you like so much; word doesn't leave the one-two duo."

And then she winked at him before stepping passed him towards the door.

"You're wearing that to the party?" Chuck spun to ask his daughter.

"'Course not," she chastised. "This is just to go to Mel's; show Uncle Dan and all that the outfit, before dinner with the trio. I'm wearing my new Yoana Baraschi to the party."

"Never bet on a Bass, eh, Evie?" Chuck commented then.

"Exactly, Daddy," Eve replied, and smirked at her father as he sent her a wink.

"Have fun," he told her, watching as she opened the door and waved to someone, who he assumed went by the name of Chris and had come to pick her up.

"Don't I always?" she returned, and with a flash of a smile, she was gone.

-

"How do you do it?" a voice asked from beside him

"Excuse me?" Chuck turned and eyed up the man who had appeared next to his side.

"Raise Eve on your own?" Dan clarified, and raised his glass to indicate the young brunette currently involved in rapid animated chatter with a small group.

"Why the sudden interest, Humphrey?" he asked. "My sister suddenly decide _now_ was the time to get bored of you? I did try and warn you about your whole 'not-getting-married' thing; you've only yourselves to blame for it really."

"No, no, nothing like that," Dan waved off. "No, it's just – "

And he turned to his brother-in-law then, and said, "Serena was out the other night, and the kids came down and said they were going out to a movie. It was past ten so I said I wanted them home, and they said they would just stay at yours."

"And?"

"No, that's not it, well, it's partly it, but – you should have seen what Mel and Eve were wearing! I tried to get them to put on a jacket or something, but… well, basically my daughter told me I was being stupid and then your daughter somehow ran rings around me with her logic – which, by the way, is so utterly ridiculous in itself that it works."

Chuck smirked at that; he could well imagine the scene.

"I did see," he murmured then.

And when Dan shot him a look, he rolled his eyes and clarified, "I was in when they got home."

"Oh – oh, right, it's just, well, Hunter said you weren't usually home when they went back to your house, so I just presumed… ?"

"That I was off having banging the first woman I could find in a bar, or something no doubt equally as sordid?" Chuck questioned with a peaked eyebrow.

"Please," he scoffed. "My wife might have previously disappeared off the face of the earth, but that doesn't mean I don't still consider myself married to her."

"Oh, right," was all Dan said to that.

"So, what do you… ?" he ventured then.

"Humphrey, I realize that in the past we may have shared what some could term 'a moment'," Chuck told him then, before deadpanning, "But this is not one of those times."

"Right, right, of course," Dan stammered, turning back to stand side-by-side with his 'brother-in-law'.

"Not that it's any of your business," Chuck spoke after a short silence had fallen between the two. "But I tend to find it better that I entertain on the same nights as my daughter – that way she's not left alone in the house for hours on end, and generally it allows for both of us to then spend time together more easily at other points in time."

Dan nodded, chancing a look a Chuck then, before turning away.

"And for the record, Humphrey, you'll never win in the fashion world against your daughter, or mine. Not to mention they're teenagers; they're supposed to be difficult, or can't you remember that far back into your own adolescence?"

"Wow, one thing I never thought I'd find myself doing: taking fatherly advice from Chuck Bass," Dan mused aloud, with a small smile.

Chuck watched him for a moment, and then rolled his eyes. "Its common sense."

"Eve and Melissa play off each other, and they both have that bit of Serena in them. They were always going to act out, and when God graced them with those looks; they were always going to dress like that too."

Dan's eyes were focused on his niece then, surveying her look from head to toe and then back again. She had on a black dress that had a scoop neck of ruffles, with the same material stripped across the hem of the dress, twice, as it cut what Dan could've sworn was precisely across her mid-thigh. Damn girl had probably measured it exactly, just to prove her point. Her dark brown locks were in loose waves as they cascaded down her back and across her shoulder, with nothing but her trademark bracelet on her right wrist. Of course, her look wouldn't be complete without those sky-high heels that Dan could never understand didn't make her sway and stumble in her step; this time looking like raised black gladiator-like shoes.

"I never thought that you, of all people, would allow your daughter to dress like that though. I thought for sure you'd be the one making her put on a large sweater that covered her up almost completely before she even stepped out the house," Dan remarked, turning to glance from his niece to her father at that.

In all fairness, though, Eve wasn't usually the one to go for the ultimately risqué dresses or outfits; that, well, _that_ was left to Dan's daughter. And the only _real_ difference between this and his niece's usual attire was the length.

"If I recall correctly, she _was_ wearing a large sweater that did just that a few nights ago," Chuck commented then, amused; and briefly wondering if Dan had actually _seen_ what his daughter usually wore: not exactly Victrola material.

"She wears clothes that make her look good," he continued, with a slight shrug. "I could make a big deal about how short a dress is, but that's it. And generally she'll wear tights when it's that short, and if not – well, that's what Chris is there for, to ensure she keeps her modesty."

He didn't think he needed to add that the boy also fended off any unwanted 'viewers'.

"My daughter knows how to dress herself, and she knows how to do it well," Chuck told Dan, and with a slight smile, he awarded the man, "And so does Melissa."

"Your efforts are better directed elsewhere," he advised Dan. "Leave Serena to the fashion department, and you worry about – well, whatever it is you worry about. Besides, you don't think Hunter and Chris have a say in what our girls wear?"

"I suppose," Dan relented. "I mean, even with some of the outfits that I've thought were really too short or low, or whatever, they were probably no worse than Serena's when she was their age."

"Oh, you have no idea," Chuck murmured then, a smirk playing widely across his lips. "You should have seen her in her heyday before you made an appearance."

On seeing the glare on Dan's face, Chuck released a laugh.

"Oh ease up, Humphrey; it's not like your daughter's out sleeping her way through Manhattan."

"Such a comfort, Chuck, thanks," Dan told him with a scathing look; and then turned to walk off.

The other merely took an amused gulp of his Scotch.

"Hey Dan!" Chuck called over, when he was no more than a few feet away. "About how I do it?"

Dan looked intrigued as he turned to face his brother-in-law once more.

"I know my daughter," Chuck told with a slight smirk. "We work."

Of course he didn't mention that Eve almost always stopped by their home before she and her friends went out to pick up a coat or top of some sort if she didn't have one with her already; or that he himself could at times be known for persuading his daughter to change her outfit. Dan Humphrey didn't have that sort of sway with women, or their fashion; and it gave Chuck Bass a warm feeling inside to think he'd just one-upped the man in an area no one else would have ever thought possible; family.

He looked up and was met with his daughter's face staring back at him. He found himself smirking at her, when he saw what the girl next to her was wearing.

There, standing beside her was her cousin: dressed in white to compliment Eve's black. If Dan didn't have anything to say about the deep v-neckline that was surely 'pushing the limits' on his _requirements_, he'd definitely have a thing or two to comment on about the lace empire bodice and its 'illusion look'. The skirt was bloused with soft pleating and the lace panel at the short hem allowed it to fall under the category of 'longer than mid-thigh' – just.

Then he saw his dear brother-in-law catch sight of the pair and nearly spit out his drink, his daughter raising an eyebrow at her uncle in response, the challenge of a smirk playing across her lips. And he felt his own lips evening out, widening further; and before he knew it he was standing beaming with pride at his daughter. She really was a Bass; and he should have known they always come out top in the end.

**  
TBC…**

* * *

A/N: In case anyone was wondering where they might've recognized the convo between Chris and Eve from, I used a version quite similar to this one at the end of one of my other fics called 'Family Matters', so… yah, I couldn't resist, sorry, it fit – besides this has more hits so… ;)

Also, I know slow moving again, apologies, but progress will be made in the next chapter and beyond – for def. Not saying for who or what in or anything, but progress of something ;) – if you can bear with me!

I'm not sure when I'll be able to get the next chapter up as I'm moving back to uni today and the internet situation's a little sketchy atm, but I shall try have it up as soon as.

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	9. Glitter and Trauma

Hey there!  
First off, I want to apologise for the extr long wait in posting this chapter. I moved back to uni about two weeks ago and my internet access has been VERY limited. But now I have broadband again :D - it's my bday :D - and my best friend got me a 'Mrs Chuck Bass' tee :D :D :D (and I can't get back to sleep ;) ) so I figured, what the heck, let's post the next chap.  
I'll try get chapter nine to you as soon as, possibly this w/e, but no promises ;)  
Hope you enjoy...

A/N: The title is inspired by the Biffy Clyro song of the same name.

Oh, and bold is for flashbacks/memories.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Glitter and Trauma

"_In the little world in which children have their existence… there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt as injustice."  
**Charles Dickens**_

It had been a few days since her last encounter with her mother, and it hadn't necessarily occurred in the way Eve had intended. She had had the upper hand, there was no doubt; but for some reason, she felt that she didn't quite have that triumphant feeling that she knew she possibly should have been feeling right about then.

In fact, if anything, she felt slight disappointment.

Sure, there was part of her that wished her mother had never come back; that she'd just stayed _gone_… well, as gone as she was before, at least, anyway. But there was another part, an ultimately more prominent part; that longed to have her back in her life once more. Because, in all honesty, she knew she needed her.

If anything, her mother's absence had shown just how much both she and her father needed her in their lives.

Just because they might not be willing to admit that quite yet was a different matter entirely; after all, her mother wasn't quite in the sharing mood then either. _Tit for tat_; as the phrase went.

She heard her father's feet padding along the corridor carpet, before they momentarily came to a stop outside her door. After a few minutes, a shadow passed under the door, and a shuffle of leather signified his retreat; she reached over to reset her alarm. It blinked _12:00 12:00 12:00_ in panicked LED, like Cinderella's red-flag reminder that fairy-tale endings were hard to come by.

As if she didn't already know.

…

When Chuck ambled into the kitchen early the next morning, his senses were instantly overloaded by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He cast a glance at one of the maids who was milling about, and then his eyes settled on his daughter: back to him, hunched over a steaming mug at the breakfast bar, feet crossed at the ankles underneath her as both they and she seemed to be perching on the high chair, while she pored over a textbook, paper and pens discarded all around her.

He strode by her, running a careless hand along the edge of the counter as he did so, coming to a stop opposite her as he poured himself a cup. He snatched a glimpse at her or two as he did so, watching her carefully. She looked exhausted – her usually rich mahogany eyes were bloodshot; her chestnut hair wild and like a mane around her worn out features.

"Tell me you haven't been up all night," Chuck commented as he took a gulp of the hot liquid; instantly savoring the feeling that the caffeine gave him as it rushed through his core.

Eve didn't even glance up. "I haven't been up all night," she parroted.

Her father simply raised an eyebrow, and queried, "Honestly?"

"You asked me to tell you something," Eve said then, looking up at him as she snapped her book shut and collected her things. "You didn't ask for the truth."

"Have a shower before you leave for school," Chuck called to her retreating figure.

She turned her head to roll her eyes at him and give him a look.

He smirked at that and merely retorted, "Can't have your mother thinking I'm neglecting my duties as a parent, now can I?"

-

"**How's she doing these days?" Serena asked, watching him carefully for any sign of any tells peeking through.**

**Chuck rolled his shoulders; jaw set, and released a soft sigh, "She's fine."**

**The blonde raised a skeptical eyebrow.**

"**Well, not **_**fine**_**, obviously," he returned, with a frustrated roll of the eyes. "But she's okay; doing as well as expected given the circumstances."**

"**She's not – ?" Serena left the question open-ended; she knew he'd understand what she meant.**

"**No," was the swift response; and the only real answer she needed to hear at that moment.**

"**Hey, Chuck, have you – you know, thought about maybe sending her to therapy?" Serena ventured then. "Tried to get her to talk to someone."**

"**She doesn't need to talk to a stranger, she has me, she has her family; that's all she needs," Chuck responded tightly.**

**And with that he picked up his drink from the glass coffee table, stood and walked out, pausing only to tell her, "And therapy's overrated, sis. You should know that."**

"**The rough times will pass," Chuck murmured then, raising his head briefly over the rim of his Scotch to meet her eyes. "And she'll be stronger for it."**

-

When she stepped into the living room in her Godfather's home during her lunch-hour that day, and saw who inhabited it, Eve Bass couldn't form a single coherent thought.

And she didn't know if that was a good thing, a sign of things to come, better moments: or not.

Eve opened her mouth and closed it quickly; realizing that if she didn't have anything to say, drawing attention to that fact by standing gaping like a fish out of water was possibly not the best thing for her to do right then.

"Hi," Blair said slowly, standing from her place on the couch.

"Eve, I wasn't expecting – " Nate started, having also risen from his place in the armchair opposite her mother.

"It's Wednesday," the teenager finally found her voice enough to say. "I'm here to see Vanessa."

"Oh, right, of course," her uncle replied, shaking his head at his forgetfulness.

"So, is she here?" Eve prompted then.

"No, actually, she's not," Nate responded, brow furrowing somewhat as the words left his lips.

"Let me go just call her for you," he offered, and with a brief look between the two females he exited the room through the nearest door, phone already in hand and number dialed.

"Eve – " her mother started, taking a step towards her.

"He's missed you, you know," Eve commented, moving to the side towards the window.

"Uncle Nate," the teenager clarified, as she turned to look at her mother. "Of course, I could use that line for quite a few people."

"I've missed him too," Blair replied quietly. "I've missed you all."

"You didn't come back before, did you?" Eve said, watching the elder through dark, heavy lids. "I mean, the three years you were away; you were in France that whole time, right?"

The question shook Blair to the core; she knew what her daughter was referring to, and she suddenly had an overwhelming urge to take her in her arms and reassure her more than ever. To tell her everything: to hold her and never let go and simply love her.

"I came back for you and your father, Eve," Blair told her softly then. "No one else."

Eve nodded, murmuring, "I thought that."

She turned to the window and wrote her name in the condensation. Her finger marks smearing across the glass made her feel like when she was child and the simple incantation could capture her attention for hours.

Blair took the extra moment to compose herself, before she said, "There were only two people in my mind when I left that day; and I told myself that I would only return when I could be the person they deserved to have in their lives again."

Eve nodded once more at that, but this time didn't meet her mother's eyes; the spell was broken anyway, she'd grown up. She desperately wanted to scream and shout; to demand answers of her mother; to ask her if she really believed that Eve would rather have her leave her and her father for three years to 'find herself' or become 'the person they deserved to have in their lives', than stay with them and simply be the best mother and wife she could be; stay with her family and accept that they loved her no matter what.

But she didn't say or do any of this. Instead she remained silent.

She was so willing to fight with her mother, just to gain a reaction. She had a fiery personality, something she knew to be hereditary, and she desperately wanted her mother to give back all that was being thrown at her. She wanted to know that she mattered enough to her mother to make her lose control, to make her react; to make her feel.

She wanted her mother to show her that she still cared; in a way she could relate to.

She didn't want her mother to keep backing down, she wanted her to shout back at her, to threaten her like her parental privileges used to allow; she wanted things to go back to the way they were.

She knew that wasn't going to happen; no matter how much time passed; but she wanted to at least be able to look at the female before her and see her mother staring back at her, not this stranger of a woman in her place.

She wanted to lean on her and pretend that everything was going to be ok. But she smeared her name off the window and looked out at the world outside instead. It was strangely gloomy out there.

"Eve?" Blair's voice traveled gently through the air; like a butterfly testing its wings on its first flight.

Eve turned and gave her a look of teenage disdain and said nothing.

And that was the moment Nate took to reappear, with Vanessa by his side.

"Hey!" she greeted the teenager breathlessly, smiling widely at her as she moved forward to catch her in a hug. "I'm sorry, I got caught up at the studio, and then the new machines broke at the café and – it was madness. I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Eve replied easily, rolling her shoulders.

"We were just having a chat, so it was fine," she said then, and glanced across to her mother.

"Really?" Vanessa raised an eyebrow at this, and looked between the two females.

"Yeah, now come on, I have to be back at school to meet the trio soon and you've already cost me precious minutes, woman," Eve replied with a lazy smile tweaking at the corners of her lips.

"Blair," the elder nodded in acknowledgement at her, a small smile playing across her lips, before she allowed herself to be dragged from the room by the teenager.

…

"They seem close," Blair commented as soon as the pair had left.

"They are," Nate replied, bringing his eyes back to meet hers from the duo's retreating figures.

"Of course, it helps that we've been more _on_ lately than _off_," he quipped with a rueful smile.

"But it also helps that Vanessa's one of the few people Eve actually respects enough to accept her help over her college applications," Nate added.

"I swear Chuck must have spent a fortune on tutors only to have them leave after the first session."

"Your girl has a knack for chewing them up and spitting them out," Nate told her then, a reminiscent smile playing across his lips. "Reminds me of someone else I used to know."

"Oh please, I could squash you like a bug right now if I wanted," Blair retorted with a roll of the eyes, though a slight smirk tugged at her lips.

"Nice to know you're still in there somewhere, Blair," he commented at that.

"As if I ever really changed," she replied, giving him a look.

"Well, you never know, three years is a long time to be gone," Nate remarked then, shrugging slightly.

"I left because I had to Nate; not because I wanted to," Blair told him at that. "I made the choice to do it because I felt it would benefit us all… in the long run."

"And has it?" he asked.

"I'm still waiting to find that out," she responded, dipping her head.

"Well, I hope for all our sakes, it works out for you Blair," Nate told her sincerely.

"God knows you've been missed around here," he commented, smiling at her.

"So I've been told," Blair murmured in response to that.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Eve might've mentioned it," she said then.

"Ah," Nate voiced.

"Though whether it was meant to be interpreted as referring to you as the sole person who missed me, or she and her father, I'm not quite sure," Blair added.

"I know you don't believe that," he chastised, a knowing look in her eyes.

"I've learned not to expect too much," she replied simply, rolling her shoulders.

"Well, they did miss you," Nate assured her. "A hell of a lot. Take it from me; it was neither a pretty nor easy sight on the eyes."

"And it would've been a lot better if you'd been here," he added.

Blair tilted her head to survey him, "Did you just crack a witty joke, Archibald? Well, I am proud."

He rolled his eyes at her, and she merely smiled smugly in return.

"Where does she want to go?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yale," Nate replied; the _like her mother_ left hanging in the air between them.

"For business, right?" Blair supplied then; the _like her father_ playing a battle of wills with the previous unsaid statement.

He dipped his head: a touché spilling from his lips in the form of a smile.

"Well, I'd better be off," she said then, standing to leave. "I told Serena I'd meet her for an hour or two before the kids get out from school."

"That's fine. Chuck'll be by soon anyway: I have to run some things by him while he's here, and he'll probably be taking Eve back to school so…" he replied, smiling at her as he walked her out.

"Oh, here," Nate stopped her then, bending down to pick up a piece of paper that had flittered to the floor as she moved.

"You must've dropped this," he said, handing her the small slip of white.

She nodded, taking it in her grasp and uttering a "Thanks."

They exchanged goodbyes, and as soon as she had stepped over the threshold, she fished out the torn section of paper from where she'd hastily stuffed it into her bag.

"Blair!" Nate called from the doorstep, just as she reached street level.

"Was it worth it?" he asked: his voice soft, his intentions genuine.

She nodded, eyes glinting in the light with tears that threatened to fall, "Every minute."

"Then I hope you get your happy ending," Nate told her; smiling at her in that way that only he could, and she returned it with one of her own.

Because as Blair read over the flurry of words; the scrawl so familiar even after all the time that'd passed; her eyes caught onto the single damp spot in the bottom right hand corner. That dried teardrop told her all she needed to know: that there was still hope for them, that forgiveness was still possible; that the prospect of a fresh start was still attainable.

_I know you're sorry_;her daughter's voice spoke to her; _I just don't know if that's good enough_.

-

**She ripped the top of the bottle open in her palm and stuffed as many of the pills as she could fit in her cupped hand into her mouth. She walked into the bathroom and ran the tap, stuck her head close to the faucet until the pills were swimming in the fishbowl of her bulging cheeks.**

_**Swallow**_**, she told herself.**

**She raised her head and she saw herself reflected right back at her, but the image was distorted by the steam and heat; and all she could see was **_**her**_**. And, in that moment, she didn't know if looking in that mirror was her biggest mistake; or what had ultimately saved her.**

**And she fell in front of the toilet and spat out the pills. She emptied the rest of the bottle, still clutched in her fist. She flushed before she could think twice. **

**That face never left her mind.**

**-**

They were chatting away animatedly, the conversation flowing, when the sound of Serena's cell ringing cut through the air.

"Sorry," the blonde apologized.

"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead," Blair reassured with a smile, taking a sip from her cocktail.

Serena frowned somewhat when her eyes fell on her daughter's name flashing across her screen, as she answered, "Mel? Is something wrong, why are you calling? Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Mom?" was the choked response.

"Mel? What is it? What's wrong?" her mother instantly demanded.

"There's been an accident," Melissa told her, and Serena could hear the tears in her daughter's voice, even if she wasn't there to witness them falling.

"What sort of accident? Where? Are you alright? What about your brother?" came her mother's rapid line of questions.

The teenager gulped, and rasped, "A car accident, mom. A bad one. Outside the school."

"Well, are you hurt? What happened?" Serena asked then. "I'm coming down now."

"Your Aunt Blair's with me, we'll be there in less than ten," she informed her daughter, already standing and pulling her coat on; urging the brunette to do the same.

"No, mom, it's not that; I'm fine," Melissa said then. "Hunter too. It's – "

"Mom?" the teenager managed to choke out. "Mom, it was Uncle Chuck's limo."

Time seemed to slow then; and all Serena managed to get out then was a monotone response reiterating to her daughter that she'd be with her soon.

And as she turned to her best friend, Blair watched her face blanche and found her own brow furrowing, face falling, a question on her lips.

But before the blonde could give her any answers, the sound of a television newscast blared around them, providing more information than they could've possibly asked for.

"Reports are flying in about a three car pile-up, including a city bus, that is blocking the junction at the corner of East 82nd Street… "

"That's beside the kids' school," Blair breathed out, an audible gasp escaping her lips as she caught sight of the rolling images and the words that followed.

"… which in turn crashed into the limo, causing it to slide into the path of the oncoming bus; the two instantly colliding. The limo is said to belong to billionaire Charles Bass. There is no word yet on the status of any of those involved… "

"_Chuck_," she released then; and seemed to break at the very word.

Serena grabbed onto Blair's arm and steered her out the door then, the near growl of her voice alone telling the driver to get them to their destination in less than ten or there'd be Hell to pay, as she shuffled into the back seat after her best friend.

-

True to her word, Serena arrived at the school ten minutes later with Blair by her side. Chaos greeted them. They started scrambling through the hoard of people gathered: pedestrian onlookers and runaway students, emergency response members and the walking wounded.

They thought they'd known chaos at various times in their lives, but nothing could have prepared them for this.

Their ears were being hounded by the sound of people screaming, the sound of sirens wailing, the sound of hearts breaking.

A hand latched onto Blair's wrist and she whirled round to find her niece staring back at her, desperation in her eyes. And without thinking, the elder drew her into a tight embrace, her nephew appearing before his mother as she did the same.

Serena threw her arms round both her children then, as Blair stepped back asking frantically, "Where's Chuck? Where's Eve?"

Melissa shook her head and Hunter's face was a mix of swirling emotions; regret reflected in his eyes, shame splayed across his cheeks, and sorrow etched into his forehead.

Blair turned and immediately began her search once more; pushing through the tight throng with an even greater vigor than before; anxiously calling her daughter's name.

"Eve," she breathed out, as she caught sight of her daughter's frame before her; tears falling from her eyes as relief set in her heart concerning her daughter's safety, a matter only dulled by the fact that her husband's status was currently _unknown_.

And in the middle of it all, Eve Bass collapsed to the ground and released a harrowing, blood-curling scream.

**  
TBC…**

* * *

A/N: The Chuck/Eve convo at the start, the second part in bold, and the part about chaos are inspired by a couple of parts in 'Nineteen Minutes'

Also, I know that's not a real address for the school, but it's the one used in Gossip Girl, so I'm using it too :)

Hope you liked it, thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought - means alot!  
Steph  
xxx


	10. Chasing Cars

Hey!  
I apologise profusely for the lack of update in the past THREE WEEKS :S  
This chapter was insanely difficult to write, and my hectic life wasn't giving me much opportunity to do so – and then when I finally got the chance, I broke three keys on my keyboard. I tell you, it is crazy difficult to type without an 'o', 'c' or 'a' keys.  
Anyway, sorry for late update, I'm already working on the next one so hopefully it won't be too long wait :) - and sorry it's not majorly long t make up for the wait either.  
Also, apologies if this is confusing – it should be made clear in the next chapter if not by the end :)

A/N: Title for this chapter comes from the Snow Patrol song of the same name.  
Also, normal type is present, bold type is past (in this case, it's the recent past)

* * *

Chapter Nine: Chasing Cars

"_All happy families resemble one another, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."  
__**Leo Tolstoy**_

-

When Eve Bass was a child she thought hospitals were magical places. That they held spells and wonders beyond belief within their very walls.

Sitting waiting for news of her father and uncle after they'd been involved in a three car pile up and the limo they were traveling in crushed by an oncoming city bus; she realized as much as she wished she still held that same childish faith, she just couldn't bring herself to believe in the magic until she saw its results for herself.

And that's when they appeared.

-

**Arms wrapped around her; she felt the pull, the sway; but she resisted. Something didn't feel entirely right. She tried to stand, but found she couldn't. Looking down, she saw her knees crumbling beneath her, and she met asphalt once more.**

**She was in the midst of a haze, waves of heat rolling by: distorting her vision, muffling the sounds. Her head snapped back and forth. She reeled back at the bright lights, flashing red and blue. Someone was swimming before her, their mouth opening and closing like a fish. She turned her head to the side to try and gauge what they were saying; distinguish their face from the rest of the blur that didn't seem to be retreating to the edges no matter how much she squinted, how much she concentrated; how much she tried.**

**All she could see was the mangled metal, the bloodstained glass. All she could see was – **

**She heard her name being called, felt arms tighten around her; and soon she was defying gravity. She couldn't feel her legs, and a sudden wave of anxiety came over her; and she jerked her body away. Her dark eyes flew across the scene, desperately searching for the blue ones she needed: clear and hypnotizing.**

**Her name was uttered once more, this time clearer, more defined. She turned her head to face the source and squinted as she stared into two pools of blue.**

**She felt her body go slack, the lull of her name on his tongue reassuring her: telling her that everything would be ok.**

**But it wasn't.**

**And nothing would ever be quite **_**ok**_** again.**

**That she was sure of.**

**And the feeling churned her stomach like the agitation of metal and rubber on the asphalt, the pain piercing her like skin sliced by broken glass.**

-

Eve didn't remember much between the mass panic and realization that resonated within her, and her arrival at the hospital.

She remembered the exact moment of impact though.

She remembered the slip of concrete beneath her feet as her heel dropped a step with her heart when images flashed before her eyes like a terrifying horror film stuck on repeat.

She remembered the crunch of metal and the screech of tires and the precise moment when her eyes fell on the sight of that city bus slamming right into the side of her father's limo.

She remembered not being able to breathe, the entire time: not being able to think of anything but him.

She still felt that way.

-

**Voices sounded faint, but not disjointed. Faces were blurry, but present.**

**The limo journey to school was as entertaining as ever; her father and Uncle left the business chat till after her departure, preferring to simply fall into easy conversation.**

**She was pulled from the memory as new figures appeared before her. Her father's smirk, mischievous twinkle in his eye, her Uncle's smile, her own laughter; it all faded into nothing.**

**She didn't even have the chance to utter a single question before they provided answers; frantic in their own distress.**

-

Eve Bass believed in reason, in rationality. Everything had an explanation; you just had to discover what that was.

So when she found the space next to her empty, her hand hanging limply by her side, the skin on her right hip cold; she knew their would be justification. Except her boyfriend wasn't there to give it to her.

-

**The elderly couple stood before her, their eyes asking the questions their mouths couldn't quite form, and she knew what they were saying; because she was, after all, a girl of reason and sensibility. Yet the words were lost on her, syllables falling from tongues as if foreign to her ears, because all she could see was the little boy by their side. The child with blonde hair and blue eyes, looking at her to provide the answers his wringing hands desperately asked for, looking at Eve to step aside and present Chris to him and his grandparents.**

**She knelt down and gathered Julian in her arms: because he needed his big brother and she needed him too, and if they couldn't have him then they would have the next best thing until they could.**

…

**Eve returned to her seat, Julian's miniature hand in hers, and he crawled up onto her lap.**

**Vanessa was standing off to the side, her Uncle Dan casting worrying glances over at her every few moments as he sat a couple of places away from Eve holding tight to her Aunt Serena. Her Uncle Will had come rushing in a short while ago telling them that Eric had called to inform him of the situation, and that he was to tell them that he was overseeing everything and that he'd let them know of any immediate changes. She was vaguely aware of utterings of her own grandparents' whereabouts, but they were muffled with the anguish of the unknown. Chris's grandparents took a pair of seats across from their grandson's girlfriend and their youngest and simply sat, waiting. **

**She felt her mother move towards her, even before she saw her.**

**Blair took the seat next to Eve, her body turned towards the teenager, face contorted in a swirl of emotions.**

"**I'm sorry, sweetheart, I… " she started; her eyes caught onto the brilliant blue of the child in her daughter's arms and she was suddenly at a loss for words.**

"_**Please**_**," the teenager turned to face her mother, breaking the elder from her momentary reverie. "Don't start apologizing."**

"**I know you're sorry; about everything, about this. But it's like it's your answer for everything," the younger female told her. "And apologies won't fix things. Right now, only doctors will."**

"**Or maybe they won't," Eve admitted, and her dark eyes seemed to dull at the words.**

**Blair turned her head and followed her daughter's gaze to the set of double doors, where Eric stood next to another man in matching scrubs.**

**The look on her Uncle's face told her more than the stained material ever could; too much blood had been spilled.**

**-**

There were a few places Eve Bass held close to her heart; places she could rely on during those times of need. Places to escape to in the moments like those that had come so hard and so fast that she had no time to duck and run.

In her father's arms.

Watched by her Uncle Nate's reassuring eyes.

Before her Uncle Eric's understanding words.

Under her Aunt Serena's bright smile.

Surrounded by Vanessa's unwavering aura.

Within the tight grasp of Chris's hand.

In her mother's arms.

_Protected._

When she found herself at the hospital chapel, she wasn't surprised. There had been no other viable option.

**-**

**Eric's eyes met Eve's for the briefest of moments and then he started moving towards them, getting closer and closer; and it occurred to her at some point that she seemed to be the only one who hadn't moved, who seemed frozen to the spot.**

**But moving meant discovering the identity of whomever it was that was making her Uncle look so distraught.**

**Moving meant discovering who **_**was**_**.**

**Her Aunt's eyes settled on her as did her mothers, and suddenly she was standing up, lifting Julian from her lap and watching his grandmother reach out for his hand and lead him to her as the adults formed a circle around her Uncle Eric and his colleague.**

**But when Eve got to them, it wasn't her mother's tears or her Aunt's that fell like the water she'd seen at the Angel Falls with her Uncle Nate last summer; it was Vanessa's.**

-

Her legs buckled beneath her, and her knees hit the carpeted lane that split the rows of pews like Moses did the Red Sea. She looked down and all she could see was those crimson waves; all she could see was the blood that stained the pavement, the blood that colored the glass and metal; the blood that tainted her soul the real shade of death.

She felt a drop of water hit her palm and held her hands up to the Heavens.

She wasn't wearing rose-tinted glasses, wasn't looking at the world with anything other than perfect clarity. Her tears were red, her hands of the same color; and she offered them up. One bleeding heart for another.

She just didn't know whose.

**TBC…**

* * *

A/N: Sorry is this was confusing, more answers will be given next chapter – which I'm trying to type up right now so, again, hopefully it won't be too long wait :)

Thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what you think – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	11. You Held The World In Your Arms Tonight

Waaay! I finally updated!  
Apologies on that front btw, the's really no excuse except to say that I simply could not get the rest of this chapter done, which bugged me incessantly I assure you, and then life kept getting in the way ;)  
Ok, so I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but it's taken me FAR too long to update – for which I cannot apologise enough (loss of internet, then holidays only covers part of this month's excuse I'm afraid :| ) and for some reason this came to me as I was meant to be typing up _'Homecoming'_ (yes, that is shameless plugging of another of my fics, right there ;) ) so I figured I might as well finish it and try get it online.  
Point to note, I did actually have… over a thousand words of this chap already typed up, but I need more.

I apologise again for the MASSIVE delay, and hope you enjoy – well… as much as you can with such angst ;)

A/N: Title for this chapter is taken from the Idlewild song.

* * *

Chapter Ten: You Held The World In Your Arms Tonight

"_To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there."  
__**Barbara Bush**_

Initial reports, given by the Archibald housekeeper and eyewitnesses outside the home, had the passengers inside the Bass limo as simply two; given that Eve was present on its departure, but the crash occurred at the junction situated past the school's location meaning she'd already been dropped off.

However, further investigation found that a third passenger was indeed present.

And finally after a lull overcame the students and staff of the school and the crash site's surrounding area; he was identified as Christopher Kingston, the boyfriend of Chuck Bass's daughter.

It turned out that the limo had made an unscheduled, and abrupt, stop mere moments after Eve had gotten out; in which Chris had hopped _in_.

Due to his position inside the vehicle on impact, and the fact he wasn't wearing a seatbelt, he had been thrown across the interior; his skull spider-webbed the opposite window.

He was in ICU, and the doctors were waiting for him to wake up.

Chuck had been thrown around also, colliding with something solid; which Eve attributed to being her boyfriend, her Uncle, or simply the metal of the vehicle itself; and cracking several of his ribs, one of which punctured his lung. His internal bleeding had been stopped, and his lung reinflated, but he was on a ventilator to ease his breathing; and so was also occupying a bed in ICU.

Nate – Nate died.

The how's and why's were lost somewhere in between the "I'm so sorry" and "We did everything we could"; and all Eve could do stare at her Uncle with disbelief in her eyes as he told her that he couldn't save her Godfather.

He couldn't save him, and he'd died.

Nate had died.

Eve turned and walked away.

-

She didn't know how long she spent in the chapel, bartering with God: because Nate wasn't supposed to die. None of them were supposed to die. And now that he had, what did that mean for her father and boyfriend?

Would they die too? Or would one of them die, but the other survive? After all, Nate had died, and they had survived – for the moment.

The thoughts ran through her mind, running over and over the scenarios of what could and what had happened: because it wasn't over, not by a long shot.

Eve wandered blindly along the hospital corridors, aware of nothing, feeling nothing. She was numb. Physically and mentally numb.

She stopped and rested against a wall, trying to hold herself together, and slowly slid down to the floor; bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her arms on top. It was a few minutes before she heard the shuffling of feet near her, and even if she hadn't recognized the click of those heels; when that scent of perfume surrounded her she instantly knew who was standing there.

"Go away," Eve stated quietly, but firmly through the hands shielding her face from view.

"Why?" Blair asked, moving her head to try and catch a glimpse of her daughter's face. "Because you're crying?"

"No," she paused; the hands came down, and Blair saw the silver tracks of her tears. "Because I don't know what to do."

Instantly, instinctively, Blair put her arm round Eve, drawing her close to her. She felt the teenager try and pull away, resisting her mother's touch; but even after all this time, Blair still knew her daughter. And she knew her well enough to know that when Eve pushed someone away, it was her way of making sure she didn't get shoved first. Blair grabbed her arm, pulling her ever closer into her before she could run away.

After another brief period of reluctance and struggling, the teenager relaxed in her mother's arms: the elder holding her as she cried, the dampness from Blair's shirt seeping into her skin.

"It'll be ok," Blair shushed into her daughter's hair.

And at that moment, because lies were better than the truth; because lies offered that little semblance of hope that both her father and boyfriend would be ok, as well as everyone else; because lies were all they had; because those words coming from those lips was all she'd really wanted to hear for such long time: Eve nodded into her mother's chest and allowed herself to be swathed in an embrace she hadn't felt in so long.

She wanted to tell her mother just how frightened she was, how terrified she felt of being truly alone, abandoned. But speaking was like trying to walk over oil covered concrete, and her words came from somewhere dark and slippery.

"Don't let me fall," Eve's voice was small, pleading; like the little child she'd once been, being held in her mothers arms.

"I've got you," Blair reassured, holding her daughter that bit tighter, closer.

"I'm falling."

"I'm here. I've got you."

But when Eve met her mother's eyes, they were scared; and when she looked at her face it was slack, like she was a hundred years old; like she didn't have the control in her to do anything but simply _be_.

Then Blair said, "I love you."

Like three drops of blood falling onto asphalt.

There would be a time for answers, Eve knew, but that moment; that was not it.

And so, after a short while, she detangled herself delicately from her mother's arms and carefully stood: because that was how it was best to move in a world where you no longer fit in.

X

Eric van der Woodson was sitting in the corner of his brother's hospital room, his only company the unconscious male in the bed before him and the dull beeping and wheezing from the machines attached to his body, when his niece entered.

Eve didn't seem to notice him at first; the door gently pushing open to allow the fluorescent lighting strips in the hallway to illuminate her frame, as she stood frozen in the doorway.

He quietly uttered her name and watched her head snap to his position, her dark eyes boring into him.

He expected to see something there: a deep hatred, a lingering resentment, traces of disgust even; but instead he saw clear mahogany eyes staring back at him.

And then she turned her head away as she stepped toward towards her father, stopping by his bedside. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as her head dipped and she swept a quick glance over his body.

Then she slowly reached forward and took his exposed fingers in her hand, gently running her thumb over the knuckles. His other arm was hanging from a bed sling; one of the most inadvanced and primal medical methods she'd ever seen practiced; to help alleviate the swelling from the pin insertion in the many sites of fracture in his hand and wrist.

She leaned forward and kissed her father's forehead, a palm against his cheek.

Then she lay down next to him on the bed and wrapped his uninjured arm around her as she nuzzled into his side, curling into his embrace.

Her eyes met his across the room as the shadows enveloped him in the corner, and then hers flickered to the seat on the opposite of the bed from where she lay, before boring into his once more.

He took the lifeline when offered; slowly rising from his seat, taking the few strides across to his brother's bedside and sitting down next to him.

Eve's eyes were closed, but in the darkness he saw her hand migrate towards him, and as her fingers entwined with his he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest; reveling in the gift of life before him, all the while wondering how in the Hell _he _had got so lucky.

X

"I forget the kids have their own generation of Gossip Girl to contend with," Blair voiced after a few moments.

Serena nodded from her side.

"Still, things have certainly changed since our day," the brunette mused out loud. "If I'd turned out looking like that, I don't care the circumstances, I'd have been skinned alive. By my mother as well as my peers."

"Well, it's a good thing you're not your mother then, isn't it?" Serena replied, sounding almost bitter.

"Besides," the blonde continued. "I'd imagine Eve would have a few choice words of her own for Gossip Girl if she commented on this after what she pulled on your return."

"As for her peers," Serena added, and then a secret smile played across her lips. "Well, let's just say they'd soon learn that there's a reason she resides in the top spot and they don't."

Blair said nothing, simply watched her best friend with interest, musing over what her daughter had looked like when she saw her earlier. In truth, with her zebra print pajama pants and black strap top and her usually gorgeous long curls in absolute disarray around her head, like a wild mane, she did look rather animalistic.

They'd been doing that since they'd heard about Nate's… since they'd heard about Nate.

It was avoidance tactics, and they'd nearly exhausted every one; but it was better than the alternative.

It was better than thinking about it.

It was better than reflecting on how they got there; what had led them to this point.

It was better than worrying over what to say to Chuck when he woke up: _if_ he woke up.

It was better than dwelling on the fact that Nate Archibald was dead.

X

When he woke, he was alone with his brother once more. He stretched as he stood, the blanket falling to the floor and pooling at his feet as he cast a look over to the window and was met with darkness. The phoenix still hadn't risen from the ashes.

He heard some commotion outside, and steadily walked towards the door. Opening the door, he peeked around the corner and heard, rather than saw, his niece having a rather heated argument with what he presumed was one of the nurses.

He started to walk towards them only to see the familiar sight of his sister's blonde mane appearing in his line of vision, closely followed by the bounding brown curls of his sister-_in law_.

-

"You said you wouldn't leave me," she sobbed against his chest. "You promised."

"I told you not to – I told you not to promise," she was bordering on hysterical, and she didn't care.

"You can't leave me!" she told him fiercely. "You promised!"

Soothing words surrounded her, and hands appeared on her skin; pulling her back and away; away from him.

She struggled, striking out, trying to break free.

She stumbled backwards, and managed to release herself from what she discovered to be a female's grip of her.

And then she saw her mother and Aunt enter the room, and the world seemed to spin.

"No, no, NO!" she all but screamed at them.

Her Aunt moved instantly towards her, but she took a step back, holding out her hand to stop them.

The nurse told her she had to keep her voice down or she'd be forced to remove her, and reminded her of where they were.

"My father is lying in a room two doors down, prognosis _unknown_," she gritted out. "My boyfriend is lying in that bed there, prognosis _critical_."

"And my Uncle died before he could even make it this far," she told the elder fiercely.

"My name is practically on the sign for this very building," Eve continued. "So don't tell me to keep my voice down, because I'm a tad _upset_ at the moment."

"Don't tell me you'll have me taken away either, because if I'm disturbing the other _unconscious_ patients on this floor, I'll _happily_ transfer them to another, private hospital."

"And _please _don't tell me where we are, as if I'm unaware of that fact," the teenager told the nurse, grief emanating from her very lips with every utterance. "Because I am nothing if not painfully _aware_ of where we are."

And with that she seemed to crumple, once more.

But his arms weren't waiting to catch her as she fell; they were limp, and it tore her apart at how _lifeless_ he looked, how lifeless he felt.

She laid her head down on his chest and listened for the dull thumping against his rib cage.

After a moment, it came, slow and steady.

She closed her eyes against the sight of medical equipment surrounding them and began to hum to the beat of his heart, drowning out the wheeze of machinery in the process.

She leaned further into his embrace, and tightened her hold on him.

Because she needed to believe he was the one doing it: lungs expanding and contracting to allow him to breathe; heart pumping to move the blood around his body.

She needed to believe, at the end of it all, she'd at least have one of them left with her.

-

By the time he reached the other room, he'd already watched as his sister fled and the brunette chased after her; the cries had subsided to a dull murmur and he stood in the corridor, hands framing the doorway looking inside.

Eve was curled up into Chris's side, arms wrapped tightly around his frame and face pressed into the skin of his chest. The tracks of her tears shone in the slicker of light from above.

The nurse placed a blanket over her slight frame and brushed a stray hair from the girl's face.

She smiled faintly down at the pair, a sad smile, one riddled with pain for another.

"Young love shouldn't end so tragically," she said as they stood side-by-side watching over the couple. "It isn't fair."

"Life rarely is," he remarked, and felt her eyes on him. "Death even less so."

He turned and traced the route he'd just come.

-

Blair had watched as the color drained completely from Serena's face as her daughter uttered the words _"my Uncle died"_ and knew that it had been her undoing.

When Eve had collapsed to the bed where Chris lay, she saw the nurse move instantly towards her daughter and felt the shift of fabric, the click of heels and the rush of a breeze move past her as her best friend all but ran from the room.

The other woman had sent her an understanding look, and moved to accommodate the teenager who only moments before had completely tore into her for doing nothing but what her job required of her: she made a small, but significant, note in her mind to make sure the nurse got a substantial raise.

And with that she turned on her heel and ran after her the blonde.

When she'd finally caught up with her, they seemed to fall together and break as one. They clung to each other, in their moment of desperation, their time of overwhelming grief. And for the longest while, neither woman let go.

-

He looked up when the shadow fell over him.

"Your sister shouldn't be alone right now," she said to him.

He opened his mouth to retort, but closed it a moment later to simply nod, rise from his place and walk out.

Because there was the divide.

It was exactly what he'd been afraid of.

He knew what she was referring to, of course.

Dan was with Vanessa, trying his best to be there for her in her time of inconsolable grief. And Serena… Serena was trying to keep it together for the sake of the kids, for the sake of the others, but he saw, as withall the others, that this had hit her hard. It had hit them all hard.

He remembered reading somewhere about how all too often the witnesses are the forgotten victims in a crime.

He thought of how true that was.

And it had already begun.

He just hoped they would find a way to get through it.

Together.

He stepped into the corridor, and then turned to close the door.

He watched her reach over and stroke his face, watched her place a tender kiss against his lips, watched the salt of her grief meander its way down her cheek before falling onto his closed eyelids.

And then he watched her lie down next to him on the bed, watched her take him in her arms, watched her will him to live with everything she had to give.

And he realized in that moment, that he wasn't simply watching a woman care for a man, he wasn't simply watching Chuck and Blair together, Blair and Chuck.

He was playing watching a husband and a wife.

When Chuck opened his eyes, it would be redemption: for all of them.

And he would, and it would be; his brother had no doubt.

Life wasn't fair; death even less so, but sometimes, just sometimes, fate went in your favor.

And if there was something Eric van der Woodson was sure of, it was that fortune always favored the bold.

And Blair Bass was being nothing if not bold enough for the both of them.

It spoke volumes of their future.

**  
TBC…**

* * *

A/N: The first couple of lines exchanged between Blair and Eve are inspired by a small part in 'One Child'.  
Some other (single) lines here or there are inspired by 'Before I Die' and 'Nineteen minutes'.

Hope that cleared up some things, the next chapter should fix up the rest of what's to come in this 'part' ;)  
I make no predictions as to when that update will come, except to say I will try and have it up as soon as I can. I've written some already, but naturally it's not nearly as ready as I'd like it to be for posting. Also, I have exams in two weeks, for two weeks, so revision should be coming first unfortunately - but we'll see ;)

Thank you to everyone who reads/reviews/alerts/favourites - it means the world to me, so please continue to do so! :)  
Steph  
xxx


	12. You Make It Real

I apologise firstly for the HUGE wait in this update arriving! - Completely unforgivable, if I'm honest.

Also, I want to apologise for the content. I don't think it's my best work, but I was sort-of-inspired and figured I best try and fix up this chapter and anything further while my muse gives me something to work on with this fic, else I'll never get it done ;)

I hope you like it though J …

A/N: Title is from James Morrison song of the same name.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: You Make It Real

_"We are each other's business: we are each other's magnitude and bond.__"__  
**Gwendolyn Brooks**_

**.**

**"You never truly realize just how much blood a human body contains, until you see it spill onto the floor," Eric admitted aloud, his eyes surveying the form before him in a mixture of sheer disbelief and just, plain, shock.**

**Because how did it happen, really?**

**How did he go to work one morning, and then get a call-in half way through his shift informing him that his brother's limo had been involved in a three-car pile-up with a bus?**

**How did he find himself shifting from room to room in _his_ ER, tending to people he saw nearly every day, people he considered family, as they fought to stay alive?**

**How did he end up calling _time of death _on Nate Archibald?**

**He looked down and saw blood staining the entire front of his shirt, dripping onto his shoes: the mark of death pooling around him.**

**He shuddered at the stench of it.**

-

When Chuck Bass awoke, the first thing he saw was his daughter's face.

And despite the tube down his throat, his lips split into a smile: because honestly, the darkness that had trapped him had terrified him beyond belief with the thought that he might never see her again.

She threw her arms around him, careful of the wires and various machines he was hooked up to, and held onto him like he was her last hope for survival.

That thought sobered him up to his current situation and pierced his heart with that fear once again.

His brother appeared in his line of vision: his face a mixing-bowl of relief and slight trepidation, but brimming with an overwhelming amount of happiness.

He sensed Eve was reluctant to release her hold on him; but after a moment, and the gentle coaxing from her Uncle with a hand to her shoulder, she took a step back.

Eric went about ridding him of the extra breathing device after calling in a nurse and assessing him with a run-through of tests: he suspected he'd been subjected to more than his fair share lately.

"I'll leave you alone," his brother said after he'd finished his medical routine; and no amount of curious or inquisitive looks from him could deter the younger male.

He watched him go, heard the click of the handle and the dull thud of the wood as the door closed and he was left alone with his daughter: who, for her part, seemed momentarily stricken.

"Daddy," she started, and then she stopped as if something had caught in her throat.

"Daddy, you were in an accident," she told him; and he racked his brain to slow down the flurry of images that rushed past at the words. "In the limo, after you dropped me off at school. With Chris and – "

"Nate," he finished.

She nodded, "And Nate."

"How is he?" Chuck asked. "And Chris? Are they alright?"

She nodded again, a small smile betraying the tears that suddenly fell as she told him, "Chris woke up two days ago. They've moved him downstairs, and hopefully now that you've woken up you'll be able to join him soon."

"He's doing better; they thought he might have a bleed in the brain, because of the impact and the damage the glass had caused to his skull, but they couldn't find anything. He's responding well to all the treatment, and he's been up and moving around, so for the moment he's in the clear," she informed him, and he caught the traces of relief that flash flooded across her features every few moments.

"What about Nate?" Chuck caught onto the silence that enveloped the small space between them.

"Uncle Nate," Eve finally addressed, head dipping and then rising again.

"Is he alright? What happened to him?" his questions were quick, his voice raw.

She finally met his eyes, and the odd thought came to him then that his daughter might be the only person to be able to make murky water appear to shimmer.

She shook her head and drew a deep breath into her lungs, while he stopped entirely.

"Daddy," she delivered the words he never thought he'd hear being uttered, "Uncle Nate died."

He said he couldn't remember the accident; he lied.

He wouldn't be lying if they'd asked him if he could remember what happened after he was told his oldest and closest friend was dead.

All he knew was that part of his world had been lost; the dark curtain cutting off his senses was just a reaffirmation.

He was vaguely aware of his daughter calling out to him before the black hole took that away from him too.

-

The second time Chuck Bass woke up, he found his wife staring back at him; and it took him less than a moment to smile at her.

Her hand was in his, and he didn't have to look down to recognize the feel of her finger entwined with his own.

The tube was back.

"You lost consciousness – stopped breathing completely," she offered by way of explanation. "The last time you woke up."

"With Eve," she clarified.

He tried to nod.

He knew. Well – it was as if everything went black, numb, after the words his daughter told him – so his loss of consciousness made sense. He figured the stopping breathing part did too – he vaguely recalled taking a breath in, and then almost forgetting to release and take another. He supposed maybe he did forget after all.

Maybe he was safer with a machine doing all the work for him.

But Chuck Bass had always liked to live with risks.

The tube was removed again, and when the doctor left the room for the moment he turned back to the brunette.

"Blair," he acknowledged, her name raw on the tip of his tongue.

"I'm right here, Chuck," she told him, and moved closer, her hand still in his.

He turned to face her, and saw that she was standing right by his bed, holding out a cup of water; which he drank, greedily, from her hands.

"Take a seat," he told her, a small smirk on his face. "We have a lot to discuss."

"Chuck," she said, "I don't think now is really the best time, I don't want to – "

"My best friend has just died, Blair, and we've been teetering around this subject for damn near long enough, so sit, because we're going to have a chat," his voice was harder with the hoarseness it held.

She nodded, and reached for the chair next to his bed, pulling it towards her before sitting in it.

"Now," his eyes bore into hers. "You're going to tell me why you left, and I'm going to listen."

"And afterwards," he ran his hand across his face to clear it from the tiredness that threatened to wash over him. "Well, we can deal with the afterwards when it comes."

He smiled at her, softly, easily.

After a moment, she returned it. He noted how shaky hers seemed, and she was a little pale; she looked scared to death.

He tried not to contemplate the reasons behind this; instead took her hand in his once more and urged her to tell him why she'd left him three years ago.

-

With her mother in with her father and Chris's grandparents and younger brother visiting him, Eve decided that the day of Nate Archibald's funeral would be as good a day as any to finally leave the hospital where she'd been stationed for the past four days.

"I won't ask how you're doing," Eve's voice brought Vanessa out of her reverie. "But I will ask if you've eaten."

When the elder slowly shook her head, the teenager turned to the maid nearby, who scuttled off to the kitchens without any words having been exchanged.

Her Uncle Dan had been by earlier and said that he'd managed to convince her to take a shower and as much as he didn't want to leave her, he had to go back and check on her Aunt Serena. She felt for him; he was in the middle of two women whom he held so dear to him, and both were falling apart at the seams.

Vanessa was sitting on the edge of the chaise staring off into the far corner of the room where the images of Nate during his Lacrosse days at St. Jude's were proudly displayed alongside his team photos and action shots of every other sport he'd played during his life.

"How is it possible that he could have been involved in all of those sports: half of them considered extremely dangerous; and yet it's a simple car ride with your father that does him the only semblance of physical damage he's ever obtained in his life?" Vanessa's voice was full of wonder, and her eyes matched this, when she blinked and met Eve's gaze across the room.

"What explanation does your precious God give you for this?" Vanessa's dark questioning eyes bore into the younger. "Why Nate, hmm? Why not your father? What has _he_ done that's really more deserving of life than Nate?"

"Tell me, because I'm just _dying_ to hear," the elder said harshly. "Why did Nate have to be the one to die? Why not anyone else? Why not the driver? Why not your father?"

Eve remained silent as Vanessa repeated her biting question, staring straight into her.

"Because if there really is a God, then he has a shit-load of explaining to do," she snapped, and then abruptly turned away from Eve.

Sitting in her black funeral attire, Eve watched Vanessa's shoulders slump forward, and her hands lift instantly to her face as sobs racked her lithe frame.

The teenager was by her side in an instant, holding her, drawing her close, while she smeared black tears over her porcelain skin.

Nate and Vanessa always came back to each other; it was just their way, how they functioned, lived.

It knocked her world out of sync more than the impact of her words when the realization hit that this would no longer be possible.

-

"You asked me once not to lie to you; you told me you didn't want to hear about why I left if what I was going to say to you wasn't the truth. You were right to do that. And I'm sorry for keeping it from you for so long."

"Go on," he merely stated at her apparent hesitation.

"I did leave because I couldn't cope. It was because I was unhappy, and it was because of the depression," she told him. "I never lied about that. In fact, I never lied. I just neglected to tell you that that wasn't the main reason."

"Which was… ?"

"I – " she looked down then, before taking a shaky breath and raising her eyes to meet his.

"I had pre-natal depression, Chuck," she finally told him. "And then I had a miscarriage. Another one."

"It pushed me over the edge," she added, explaining. "I couldn't wrap my head around it; it was all so confusing. I thought it was because of everything I'd done before: you know, the bulimia, then the near anorexia, the late nights, early mornings. I thought that it'd been the stress I'd put on my body over all the years."

"Then the Doctor told me that while these may have been contributing factors, these things can just… _happen_."

"Can you believe that?" she asked then, letting out a brief bout of laughter, verging on hysterical. "He said that there was no one to blame, it was just an act of nature."

"But I knew that was a lie, it had to have been something I did."

"It wasn't. These things, they happen – it wouldn't have been your fault, Blair," Chuck said then, his voice a soft whisper. "It wasn't your fault before either."

She shook her head, her eyes shimmering, "I understand that… now."

"But you couldn't have told me that then – well, you could, but I wouldn't have believed you," she attempted a half-smile. "All I could hear was that little voice in my head telling me I wasn't good enough. Wasn't a good enough mother, a good enough wife; just _not enough_."

"You tried to make it stop, didn't you?" Chuck said, eyes boring into hers.

He shifted slightly towards her, and she saw his eyes glimmer under the light, and he seemed to choke on his next words, as he ground out, "The only way you knew how."

Her head was dipped when she nodded gently, her chin practically resting on her chest as she did so.

"Oh my God," he breathed out.

"When realization hit, it was the last straw. I knew I needed help, and I couldn't put you or Eve through that," she told him, and the tears began their slow meander across her pale skin. "I'd seen what it did to Serena and her mother, with Eric; I didn't want that for my family."

"I didn't mean to leave for so long; I thought it'd only be a few weeks, maybe a month or two. That I'd call and tell you I just needed a short break away, and then I'd return and everything would be fine," she released a brief laugh, rolling her eyes. "I was naïve."

"I relapsed almost as soon as I landed. I think the magnitude of what I'd done; both in our home and then on foreign soil actually hit me. I'd left my family; without even a note or backward glance," she said, and the tears continued to fall.

"I won't ever forgive myself for leaving you, Chuck, either of you. But after what I went through to recover; I can't say I wouldn't do it again if given the chance over," she shook her head; shame and remorse too much to bear.

"My only regret is not giving you the chance to stand by me," she looked up at him; heart on her sleeve like all those years ago when she'd first told him she loved him. "Because I know you would've come with me in a heartbeat, and never looked back."

The dam finally broke, her cheeks became the seabed; and suddenly she was in his arms, and he was holding her as if to let go would be to lose her again, forever.

"I'm not saying I completely understand why you left; and I can't pretend I'm not hurt or angered by the fact you didn't trust me enough with what you were going through – "

"No, Chuck, that's not – " Blair broke in then, desperately, pulling away to look him in the eyes.

"But… I'm willing to try this, whatever _this_ turns out to be: for you, for our daughter; for our family," he finished, eyes dark on hers.

"Chuck, it took me a long time to get where I am now. And I'm in a good place, personally. I've dealt with the things that pulled me away from you before. I can't promise if we get back together that everything will be perfect, or it will be like it was before, but – "

She was silenced by his lips on hers.

They broke apart and he smirked at her lightly. "We're not perfect people, as much as we're both loathe to admit it, I'm sure, and we're never going to be. Neither of us are the same as when we got married, or even before that."

"But you're here, and I'm here and – " he cut himself off as he descended on her once more, his smirk imprinting itself against her lips. " – It's been too damn long since I kissed you."

A smile broke through then, and soon she was grinning against his skin.

They broke apart once more, breathing heavily.

"I'm not saying this is going to be easy, we've still got a long way to go and so much still to deal with, but – "

"I know," she murmured, and then took the moment to kiss him once more.

Blair blinked and suddenly everything came back into focus.

"Your eyes are open," she whispered into his mouth.

Chuck stroked her spine. "The last time I closed my eyes, you disappeared."

So she kept her eyes wide, too, and was stunned by the sight of two things she never thought she'd see: herself, coming full circle; and the shadow of a smile passing over her daughter's watchful face.

She pulled back in Chuck's arms.

"What is it?" he murmured.

Blair leaned into him again.

"My family," she said.

And he followed her gaze to see their daughter standing by the doorway, bordered by the figures of her boyfriend and two best friends; her family within her family.

Eve seemed to smile at them; her own blessing, of sorts, before taking Chris's hand and leaving them alone, leading the quartet away to their own safe haven.

And Blair Bass succumbed to her husband's touch once more, because in his arms, the whole world was spread in front of her like a banquet.

She was where she belonged: she was home: with her family.

-

"I won't ask what brought about this change," she said to him, with a small smile and a lazy roll of the eyes.

"Nearly dying has a lasting effect," he remarked. "You realize what's important, what you can't lose."

"You never lost me," she whispered softly.

"And I never will," he promised.

-

"I don't blame you, you know."

Those were the first words Eric had heard directed at him since Blair has informed him to go and see his sister that night in his brother's room; after he had informed his family and those it extended to about the outcome of the crash on the three victims they were most concerned with.

The first words his niece had said to him since he'd told her that her Godfather had died under his care.

He looked up and met her eyes; and once more saw nothing but shimmering speckles of wood stained glass staring back at him.

They weren't bright like he was used to, but they were clear; they were honest.

"It wasn't your fault, after all, so how could I?"

"He was under my care, I was the one who was supposed to save him," Eric reasoned, with nothing more than plain simplicity in his words. "You have every right to blame the doctor who failed him; who allowed him to die."

Eve released a breath and rolled her eyes, and shocked him even more when she sat down next to him.

"You're not _just_ a doctor, and you didn't _allow him to die_," she countered.

"Is it so hard to believe that even in this day and age, modern medicine can in fact fail you?" Eve spoke aloud. "That sometimes it's not all just up to the people on the ground?"

"Look," she started, pausing as she took a breath, momentarily looking down at her hands clasped in her lap before bringing them up to meet his.

"I loved Uncle Nate as much as I love you or Aunt Serena, as much as any of you. And I _know_ that you wouldn't have just 'given up on him'," Eve's dark eyes bore into him as fiercely as the words she was speaking.

"But sometimes, things are just out of our control. Sometimes things happen that just downright suck, but that's life."

"And as hard as it is right now, it does get better," she told him, eyes never leaving his.

Her eyes flittered across to her father's form: still and distant on the bed, but alive.

"The rough times will pass," she watched the rise and fall of his every breath as she spoke, "It _will _get better."

Her gaze shifted back to him, and she gave him the smallest of smiles as she commented, "A wise man once told me that; and I'm sort of inclined to believe him."

"Because he's my uncle, and because I know it's true," she ended, and he nodded.

She took his hand then and led him towards the front doors, where all those he'd grown up with were seated to pay homage to the boy they'd once known, the man he'd become.

He stalled, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot, and she turned to look at him.

He saw his nephew and niece just ahead, by his sister's side, each with a hand in the crooks of her arms. His brother-in-law was just in front of them, walking Vanessa inside. He let the sea of other faces flow by without much more thought.

"I don't think I should be here," he said then. "I don't think – "

"Stop thinking," she instructed of him then, squeezed his hand and slowly they took a step forward, together. "Just do."

-

"Do you remember what happened?"

He turned his head slowly, refocusing his attention on the female by the side of his bed: the one asking the questions.

"Do you remember anything? From before the accident? Or the accident itself, possibly?" she asked again, looking at him with a reassuring smile and a coaxing nature resonating out of her.

He blinked once, tiredly, and shook his head in the slightest of movements.

The nurse nodded, sent him a reassuring smile and then left him alone with his wife once more.

That wasn't true.

He remembered sounds. The _slam_ as his body hit the interior of the limo, the _crunch_ of his bones beneath its metal framework, the _thud_ as his head connected with the glass.

He remembered pain. The dull ache that began as soon as such a force slammed into him, the sudden flares as bone sliced through skin and flesh was torn, the agony that vibrated its way throughout his whole body right up until the curtains fell.

He remembered feeling. Everything. From the shock at the instant they were struck; his body being wrenched through the air in a manner no human should partake in; the _sludge_ of matter hitting matter within; the _cracking_ under his skin and the complete _shattering_ of whatever part of his body had decided to splinter itself into a thousand giant needles before tearing open his skin; through to the dull _clunk_ of his skull as it seemingly tried to embed itself in the window or the metal or whatever surface he'd connected with.

He remembered it hurt. So much. He couldn't remember how to breathe or think because suddenly there was nothing but pain. And then there was nothing at all.

He remembered her. Her voice in his ears; her face before his eyes; her arms around him. Her heart beating against his the entire time: a feeling not even darkness and the unconscious could take away.

**"I love you, Chuck," she whispered, breath hot on his. "I never stopped."**

**"I love you too, Blair Bass," he murmured in return.**

**And then he kissed her, murmuring against her skin, "Always have, always will."**

**She was still there in his arms when he drew his next breath.**

His daughter's face swam before his eyes; face alight with the glow of her smile.

He found himself smiling back at her, being pulled ever nearer by the dark recesses that watched over him.

He stared into her brown eyes and found her mother dwelling there.

His wife and his daughter were there: the two most important people in his life. And they were there, with him, together.

The easy smile continued to grace his lips and he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the passing of time through their eyes.

-

She held her head high, her shoulders straight, but she couldn't help but watch through waves of salt water as the coffin that her Uncle Nate resided in was lowered to the ground.

Her Uncle Eric was by her side, her Uncle Will on his other, and she wasn't sure who was holding whose hand by that point because they were both shaking and clasping the other tightly and neither seemed to intend to let go at any point in the near future.

The vibrating in her pocket cut through any other thought and she used her free hand to draw out the offending device.

She saw her Aunt shoot her a disapproving look, but her caller id. informed her that it was the hospital so she dismissed the elder with a single glance at her phone screen, stepping aside to answer the call.

Her Uncle Eric appeared next to her mere moments later and she turned to face him only to see the dirt fall through her Aunt Serena's fingers, the last in the line; and her Uncle Nate was finally laid to rest.

"Eve," he said, and her eyes were drawn to him once more.

She thought her face must have been whiter than normal; as pale as her mother's usually was, possibly even more so, because he was looking at her with more than just the concern of a family member; he had his 'Doctor face' on. It scared her. Though not as much as the words that tumbled from her lips a second later.

"That was the hospital," she told him; and suddenly felt the eyes of the entire congregation fall on her with the four words. "My father just died."

.

__

TBC…

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A/N: Blair blinked and suddenly everything came back into focus. "Your eyes are open…" – Inspired by small section in 'Plain Truth'

I'm sooo sorry for the ending!  
I actually never intended for the story to go that way, but it fits with how I want to continue on so hopefully you'll forgive me enough to read on.

Also, in case it wasn't really clear, this is why Blair left: while she was with Chuck she had a miscarriage. She developed pre-natal depression, but suffered another miscarriage. And then she tried to kill herself. Not wanting to put her daughter or husband through the pain of seeing her go through that and having to live/suffer it themselves, she left for France thinking she'd only be away a short while and then return, but it's taken her this long to 'get better'.  
Sorry if you don't feel that the explanation is good enough, or you don't like it, feel free to make your own judgements about it all, but this is the one I'm using J

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought – it means so much to me!  
Steph  
xxx


	13. Nothing To Give

First of all, I'll apologise for what I did at the end of the last chapter. That was not originally in my plan, but then I came back to type this up after a huge gap of not having touched it (as I'm sure you're aware if you've followed it ;) ) and it just seemed to fit.  
Also, sorry for the wait between the last update and this one – the next will most definitely not be long at all!

A/N: Chapter title from the White Lies's song of the same name.

Hope you like…

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Nothing To Give

"_Woman is the salvation or the destruction of the family – She carries its destiny in the folds of her mantle."_  
_**Henri Frédéric Amiel**_

.

"Eve," he said, and her eyes were drawn to him once more.

She thought her face must have been whiter than normal; as pale as her mother's usually was, possibly even more so, because he was looking at her with more than just the concern of a family member; he had his 'Doctor face' on. It scared her. Though not as much as the words that tumbled from her lips a second later.

"That was the hospital," she told him; and suddenly felt the eyes of the entire congregation fall on her with the four words. "My father just died."

Vanessa's head shot up with the admission, and Eve's eyes met hers across the open grave of the man they'd once both known and loved, as she said in an eerily quiet voice, "Be careful what you wish for."

-

Blair still expected him to wake up. She'd watched as his heart stopped twice already and the medical professionals rallied round his prone form trying to revive him. This time when he flat-lined there was no blip on the machine, no cry at the momentary breakthrough, no relief to be felt in her heart: only an overwhelming weight that threatened to overcome her completely.

The third time wasn't lucky, it wasn't a charm, it was the end; of him, of her. Maybe even the end of them all.

She should've known, of course.

There was a sign with these things. There was always a sign, if only you looked hard enough: if only _she_ had looked hard enough, had looked at all.

Lily didn't find happiness until the fourth time she slipped on that wedding band and became Mrs Bass; gaining a family she'd never really had before.

Blair Bass hadn't found her own happily ever after until she returned to her family from a three-year absence, only to find it being slowly but surely ripped away from her by the seams mere moments later.

Three.

Maybe if she'd waited, just until that number had changed: maybe she'd have had Lily's life to look forward to.

Maybe if she'd never gone at all: maybe none of this would have ever happened to them.

Maybe.

-

After those words had tumbled from Eve's lips, her eyes had cut across the path from Eric to Bart; standing stalk still and staring back at her with an impenetrable look on his face, jaw tight, eyes hard.

He had walked over to his granddaughter, placed his hand on her elbow and led her away towards their limo.

Lily followed, unable to quite keep up with their pace, with Eric alongside her. Serena spoke hurriedly to Dan, who rounded up their children, before she too rushed after her stepfather and niece.

And together the remaining members of the Bass family climbed into the limo and left the funeral with the prospect of organising one of their own so soon after his one weighing heavily on all their minds.

-

Eve was frighteningly calm on the ride back to the hospital.

Bart was on his phone demanding answers, shouting about incompetence and influence and wanting to know how in the Hell this could have ever happened in the first place.

"I should have been there," Eric remarked, shaking his head as he stared out the window opposite.

"I could've done something, I could've – " he cut himself off and dropped his gaze, tears raining down on his suit pants as he shook his head once more.

"Eric, don't do this," Serena tried to placate him, despite her own shock. "It wasn't your fault. You can't go blaming yourself for this."

"Your sister's right, Eric," Lily joined in. "It wasn't your fault."

"Then why does it feel like it was?" Eric asked, his voice sounding impossibly hollow.

"Eric, don't. This isn't your fault," Serena reaffirmed, and then she seemed to choke on her next words, "What happened to Chuck – Eric, you did the best you could."

"I wish I was capable of more," his desperate plea seemed to reverberate off every available surface in the limo.

Eve turned at the words, frowned at her Uncle's form, and then went back to staring out the window in time to see the blurred images still to form discernible shapes.

She didn't look back at the others as she opened her own door and stepped out of the limo, making straight for the entrance of the hospital.

The teenager kept up her static silence until they entered the corridor where her father's room was, and then she had only spoken to inform her Grandfather of the room number; partly to save them having to interact further with hospital staff, and partly because it just came to her with the thought that he had been moved that morning because he was supposed to be doing better. And then she had fallen into the shocked silence that currently held her, once again.

And then, after the longest time, Eve looked up at the adults surrounding her and announced, "I need to see my mother."

-

When her gaze fell to the elder, she said nothing. She took in the red of her mother's eyes, the paleness of her skin, the tremors running through her hands. She imagined it to be much like looking in the mirror.

And then she took a step forward and put her arms around her mother, felt her mother begin to crumble in her embrace.

When she pulled away, she told her, "We're going home."

And then Eve took her mother's hand and led her out of the room where her father lay.

-

Blair was completely numb in the days that followed.

She was staying in her old home; sleeping in the bed she used to share with her husband, and yet reality seemed to refuse to quite hit her.

Her daughter was like a walking zombie; of that, Blair was well aware.

And yet nothing would crack her from her reverie. Nothing would break through and let her grieve, let her feel; let her do anything but simply be.

-

"You're expected to sit with the family of the deceased," the words hit him like the shock of a defibrillator. "What-with you being a _member_ of the family and all."

Eric looked up when her shadow fell across him.

"I don't really feel deserving of the inclusion into your family," he informed her of his thought, as self-loathing and inappropriate as they were at this time and with the recipient.

Eve released a breath and rolled her eyes, and shocked him even more when she sat down next to him. For his part, Will stayed silent on Eric's other side; just like he had when his partner had motioned to the seat they were currently residing in which was quite notably _not_ the front row reserved for family members. He understood, he didn't necessarily agree with the reasoning, but he understood.

"Gee, way to be cheerful," she commented at that, but her eyes didn't light up like they used to when she teased him.

"It's a funeral," he stated simply in return.

"And you're not the one who's dead," was her instant reply.

"Ok, that was callous, even for you," his eyes met hers and he suddenly wished he had kept his gaze that little bit averted. As a doctor he hated to witness another in pain or suffering; as an Uncle he wished to take it upon himself.

"I'm grieving," Eve responded simply with a half-hearted shrug.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then the lady seated at the organ started to play. He felt his niece stiffen and her hand reached over to grab his. She was still looking straight ahead when she spoke.

"You need to sit with us," her voice was resolute, and he knew there was no way he could deny her.

She turned and he found himself staring into her eyes and all he could think of was his brother, his brother who was dead, his brother whose funeral he was attending _right at that very moment._ He could've cried right then and there, but he didn't.

"I can't do this on my own," her admission broke any resolve that had previously held him.

He nodded, and squeezed her hand. Then he stood, and the three of them made their way to the front pew to take their seats with the rest of their family.

-

She'd been so impossibly calm throughout the whole service, the journeys from house to chapel to grave. The words of her best friend, her brother-in-law, father-in-law; everything that his friends and family said of him, it all blurred together to produce one simple thought in her mind. _I love you._

It was only when she saw her daughter take a step forward, hand outstretched and filled with the dirt from the very ground they stood on, did the first crack start to show.

She watched the trickle of soil as it fell into the open grave and she cried, openly, for the first time.

When she looked up, ignored the hands on her shoulders of at her side, her eyes met with those of identical mahogany: a richer earth.

Her daughter's hand found hers and she allowed the younger to lead her over to where her husband's coffin lay. Her hand shook almost violently when she took from her daughter the granules she was supposed to offer for her husband's peaceful passing back to the ground that bore him in the first movement of evolution at its best.

When she opened her outstretched hand; the dirt fell in a steady flow, from a steady palm, to a steady foundation below.

Her fingers clasped with her daughter's and the earth that now held the man they both loved joined them together in a way that the grief never could.

.

Later that night was the first time her daughter had approached her since they'd held onto one another at the graveside.

"Just tell me that you told him," her eyes pleaded with the elder, her voice impossibly low.

Blair stopped and took the moment to drink the sight of her daughter before she slowly nodded.

"Thank you," Eve said. "That's all I wanted to know."

-

The house had been like a tomb of silence between the two women that inhabited it ever since they'd returned home from the hospital that day. Days had past since the funeral, and though they both seemed to try; neither could quite find the words or the actions just then to fully embrace the other in a way that should have been nothing but natural instinct.

The sound of a door closing in her relative vicinity brought her out of her thoughts.

She looked across at the figure that had just entered the room, and startled.

"Christopher!" Blair exclaimed, taking in the sight of the tall blonde teenager.

"Do you know that it's easier to comfort a kid whose barely four after both his parents have been killed, than a young teenage girl after her mother's just walked out on her and her father?" he remarked before she could ask after his presence; meeting her eyes briefly before making his way towards her, head bowed.

He stopped when he was no more than a few feet away from her, and raised his head to face her once more.

"Look, I don't know the real reason behind why you left; and quite frankly, a part of me doesn't really care," the blond told her. "You're back, and none of us can change the past; so the best we can do is deal, right?"

"You know, I'll probably never understand why you did it. I lost my parents through something they had no control over; Eve lost you because of something _you_ couldn't control. And whether that's your fault or not, I don't know." The teenager rolled his shoulders, and the elder bowed her head, nodding somewhat at this.

"What I do know is that I love your daughter more than anything, Mrs. Bass; and if you hurt her again, it's unlikely you'll ever get another chance at this happiness thing."

Blair looked up to meet his eyes and saw nothing but stark honesty displayed across his face. Chris gave her a nod then, a small smile curving his lips, and turned away.

He stopped short when he reached the door, half ajar, fingers wrapped round the handle; and turned back to face her.

"You know, when I was a kid, after my parents died, I used to wish I could be part of your family. I could tell even then that you had something special together; the love you shared. I never stopped hoping that would happen, even after you left, because it was sinful to give up on something so precious."

"She wants you to fight for her; she needs to know that no matter what happened then, she means more to you than whatever reason it was that made you leave. She needs to know how much she means to you. And I don't particularly care if what you tell her is the truth or not, Mrs. Bass, I only care about Eve."

His eyes seemed to pierce right into hers then, as he said, "She deserves her happy ending, and everyone else has played their parts; you're the only one left."

"Do it right this time," he told her, and then with a smirk tweaking at his lips, he gave her the smallest of winks, before disappearing into the night.

Blair fell back against the throw cushions of the sofa, releasing a long breath: needless to say she agreed with Serena; the boy was something else.

.

Blair stopped short when she entered her daughter's bedroom.

Recognition flooded into her mind, as she drank in the mirrored furniture, and the color-coordinated accessories scattered throughout the room: the white and ruby red bed spreading, and the walls of the same crimson color, all except the stark white one behind her bed.

And on the wall above her bed there were three large black frames, setting off the contents with a thick white mount perfectly.

It was an edition of GQ: the cover framed side-by-side with an inside page spread.

On the front was an image of Chuck standing with his hands in his pockets; head slightly dipped, with his eyes giving the impression of being able to scrutinize the person observing him from the mere covering of a magazine. The smirk was displayed widely for all to see: a demonstration in itself of his unquestionable charm and unrelenting business manner. The words splayed next to him reading in bold print: _**Chuck Bass**__: Business mogul, Real-Estate tycoon, UES's resident bad-boy billionaire, and… Father? Welcome to his lair._

Next to it was the double page article, peppered with images of Chuck and Eve together, large stand-out comments that were apparently more quote-worthy than the rest; and titled with the words: _Chuck Bass:_ _Man of the Year? We'll see. One particular female prefers to term it Father of the Year._

"He wasn't lying," Blair breathed out as she neared them, seemingly awe-struck.

"Excuse me?" Eve raised an eyebrow at her mother: whether it was due to her words or her sudden appearance, the elder wasn't quite sure.

"Your father," she clarified. "He said the photos from that shoot were striking – he wasn't lying."

"Yeah, well… " the teenager drifted off. "He was rarely ever wrong about anything."

And then Eve gifted her with the words: "There's a copy on the desk over there, if you want it."

It was an offering – of sorts – and Blair grasped it with both hands, recognizing it for what it was.

Fully aware of how quickly the moment could change, she took a deep breath and a step closer.

"Eve," she addressed the younger, another step until she was standing by the bed where her daughter lay back against the plumped-up pillows.

"I want to start by saying that I'm sorry it's taken me this long to tell you, but I need you to know that I had my reasons."

The teenager eyed her for a moment and she gulped down another rush of air. Eve drew back, pushing herself up against the headboard, as the elder took a tentative seat at the end of her daughter's bed.

She reached out a hand to the girl, but received no immediate response.

"Remember when you were little?" Blair said then. "You trusted me, Eve. Why can't you right now? What changed between us?"

"I grew up and saw the error of my ways," Eve offered; only attempting to crack the barest of smirks.

"No, Eve. You just got the Waldorf-Bass stubborn streak," her mother informed her.

After a few moments, her daughter relented, nodding her agreement for the elder to continue.

So Blair told her. She explained the reasoning behind her escape to France, why she'd stayed so long, and why she was finally back.

"The depression I had," Blair started. "It was pre-natal…"

When she'd finished, Eve let out a low release of breath, her face having fallen into a frown sometime after her mother began to speak, and said, "I – wow, I mean – what do you want me to say to that?"

"I don't want you to say anything," Blair told her earnestly. "I just need you to trust my words and believe me when I say that it was enough to make me want to leave the two people I loved more than anything in the world."

"I do, I do," Eve said, watching her mother, suddenly awe-struck by the whole experience.

And then she shuffled forward and put her arms around her mother's shoulders and murmured, "I'm sorry."

Blair encircled her daughter, arms tight around her petite frame; holding her closer than she ever had before, as if scared that if she let her go, she would never get her back. She felt the salt of her grief meander its way down her own cheeks with the declaration, "So am I."

.

_"His daughter is a study in her own right. A junior at prestigious Constance-Billard School for Girls in Manhattan, and only child of arguably one of the city's most successful businessmen in generations, she does not fail to impress. Stunning on the eye, she's a true Bass at heart; and she knows exactly how to use her striking good looks to her (own) advantage._

_She tells me that she plans to transcend even her own father's empirical business stature by her twenty-fifth birthday: the age her father was when he took over full reign of Bass Industries from his own father, nearly doubling its net worth less than two years later._

_I give her a skeptical look and ask her if she really thinks she'll be able to come true on this. The chuckle her father releases from his place next to us; and the finger he places across his lips to silence himself as he eyes me with amusement twinkling in those dark recesses of his, tells me I shouldn't underestimate her. She looks at me like I'm insane (a possibility given the things I've borne witness to in this interview), crinkle of a perfectly-styled eyebrow and all, and then she smirks in a way that is far too akin to her father and tells me, "I'm Eve Bass."_

_Apparently that's answer enough._

_Seeing her father watch her with nothing short of immense pride reflected in his eyes, tells me this might actually be the case._

_Chuck Bass: business mogul, real-estate tycoon, UES's resident bad-boy billionaire, and father – his greatest achievement."_

TBC…

* * *

A/N: the GQ issue was published the previous year, hence the reason why Eve is younger. Also, I know it's prob OOC, but I wrote it ages ago, and I sorta like it, so it stays ;)

One more part to go - and it should be up by the end of this week since I have actually completed it too :)

Thanks so much for reading – please let me know what you thought, it means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	14. Shine With Me

This is the final chapter, hope you like it :)  
It takes place a (short) while after the last chapter.

A/N: bold is for memories/past.  
A/A/N: Chapter title from the P.O.D song of the same name.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Shine With Me

"_Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them."_  
_**Oscar Wilde**_

.

"I know my return's been hard, and I know my absence was just as difficult on you also," her mother said earnestly.

"But I love you, and I'm sorry," she said it with such conviction that Eve thought her resolve might just crumble there and then.

"Never a day went by when I wasn't thinking of you or your father," Blair told her.

And then holding out her hands, in a different sort of offering to her daughter, she said, "I just wanted you to know that."

Eve took the proffered gift and watched her mother through identical pools of rich mahogany.

And then with a small smile, Blair said, "Happy Birthday Sweetheart."

.

Eve looked down at the book in her hands; leather front and bound, and engraved with a solid gold print that read: _Albums contain fleeting fragments of time, forever frozen, forever then. They do not replace our memories, but instead, enhance and guide them, whilst allowing others to share._

And as her fingers reached round to finger the edges, they found a place on the bottom left hand corner, and traced the lettering **B.B.**

She slowly cracked open the cover, and her eyes widened at the sight.

In a child's scrawl, there on the first page, were the words:

_To the best mommy EVER!_

_Now you have a special place to hold your memories when your heart becomes too full._

_Lots and Lots of Love_

_Evie_

_xo_

Tears sprang to her eyes as the memory came to mind. She was three years old and writing those exact words, her father by her side helping her; her tongue peeking out and her brow furrowing in intense concentration at the task.

And she'd meant every word of it; she knew she had. Even at that tender age she knew that she loved her mother with everything she had to give and everything she was; and nothing would ever change that.

Nothing had.

She turned the page and was met with an image of her as a baby, a newborn. She couldn't have been more than a couple of hours old at most, and she was lying contentedly in her father's arms, her mother sitting up on the hospital bed next to them. Her father was leaning in towards her mother, but his attention was all on his daughter. Her mother had one hand on her father and one on the little bundle in his secure embrace: branching out with love and pride as far as she could.

Page upon page was decorated with pictures of moments in her life that someone had thought special enough to capture. There was the obvious ones like her first days of Kindergarten, and High School and so forth; her first gymnastics meet, her first piano recital.

But then there were the others. The ones that seemed to capture a secret time or place; a special moment, rare or otherwise; and the ones that just left the interpretation of meaning to the eye of the beholder.

There was one of her at about seven, still dressed in her elegant dress from the Christmas party, and sleeping atop her parents bed covers; curled snuggly into her father's side.

One of her at nine, mid-air as she performed a release on the uneven bars. This caused her own breath to catch in her throat: she had no idea how her parents could watch her do that all the time. If that was her child, she'd have been terrified she'd fall, or hurt herself, or – it hit her then: her parents were no less scared than she would be, but they still allowed her to do it because it was what she loved; and because they seemed to know that with every hit, every fall, she'd get back up, and carry on with everything she had to give. Just like her mother had after the depression and the miscarriages and the… absence. And just like her father did after her mother's departure; and was starting to do after his accident and her Uncle Nate's death. After all, she had to get it from somewhere, right?

Another of her at gymnastics: this time at twelve, still in her white powdered gloves, hugging her mother tightly. The elder didn't seem to care that she was currently being covered in chalk that would surely ruin her outfit, and her daughter didn't seem to care for 'professional etiquette'; all they seemed to care about was each other. Her father stood behind them, watching them with a secret smile across his lips and a certain glint in his eye.

She thought that was her favorite. It had been taken by someone outwith her immediate family; it showed them from an outsider's perspective. And she had never seen so much love captured in one moment before.

It made her cry to think that she'd nearly lost that forever.

And then just as she caught her breath, it hitched in her throat as she turned the page and was greeted with a picture of her at her debut. She was sixteen. Her mother had left that previous year. And she looked incredible in her Waldorf Original, her father by her side with eyes that shimmered so dark they seemed like a reflection of his black polished shoes. She'd never seen the picture before; it must have been the only one taken of the two of them together that night.

She saw that her mother had added the GQ shots, and a smile crossed her lips; they really were stunning.

And then there was one of her parents together; the last photo in the album. He was lying on a bed swathed in white, and she was pressed into him in a rumpled dress and no shoes; his arms encircling her, her fingers entwined with his, their eyes staring intently into one another.

It could have been taken moments before he died, for all she knew.

What she did know was that she'd never seen happiness displayed so plainly as with her parents in that moment. She'd never seen two people look at each other with such passion and such determination, that it was as if they truly were the only people in this world. She'd never seen her parents look more in love.

She cried then.

Because somewhere along the way she'd forgotten that before she came along, there were two.

Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck.

Her parents.

Somewhere along the way she'd forgotten exactly what it was that had been lost.

Somewhere along the way she'd forgotten just how much her parents had loved one another.

And looking at the photo before her then, she doubted anything she would ever feel could quite compare to how her mother must have felt the moment she discovered that the love of her life had died.

She cursed her selfishness and wondered how she'd ever allowed herself to believe this was only about her.

It was barely about the three of them at all.

It was about the original two, the couple that had started it all.

It was about her parents.

-

"Mom?"

At the sound of her daughter's voice, Blair turned round; only to be struck with the thought that this was the first time since her initial return that Eve had addressed her as such.

She was instantly met with her daughter's smiling face, the tracks of her tears shining silver in the light.

"Thank you."

The elder could hear the emotion pouring from the gesture like she'd expressed it herself.

And then her daughter was standing before her, throwing her arms around her, and she was holding on just as tightly.

"I love you, and I'm sorry," Eve whispered, returning her mother's earlier words right back to her. "And… I forgive you."

"Oh, Eve," Blair murmured, and she moved back to look into her daughter's eyes, finding her husband's spirit dwelling in the dark recesses. "I love you too."

-

"Your father might've added a few extras into your original present," Serena told her then, and with a bright smile presented her niece with another box.

Eve eyed her Aunt with that self-satisfied look on her face, as she took the proffered gift, asking her, with an amused smile, "What are you up to?"

She winked at the younger and dipped her head, excitedly motioning for her to open her present.

"He got me a new car?" the teenager's excited voice formed a near-squeal, as her hand reached into the box and plucked out the car key.

"Like I said, your dad might've added a few extras," was all her Aunt said in return.

And standing behind her then, the blonde placed a hand on either shoulder and turned her niece around.

"Oh. My. Word!" Eve breathed out as her eyes fell on the sight that lay before her.

He hadn't gotten her one car; he'd gotten her a car for every day of the week. Literally.

She whirled around and threw her arms round her Aunt, murmuring "_Thank you_" over and over as she beamed at her.

"Oh, I'm sure it was his pleasure," her Aunt assured her, her confident smile curving against into her hair as she said it.

"Besides, there might've been some outside influences," the elder added then.

She turned in her Aunt's arms to follow the elder's gaze, only to see her two best friends and her boyfriend standing before her.

Eve grinned at them, and flung her arms around all three, drawing them in for a hug that took them full circle.

And then together they turned to survey the line-up of sports cars and convertibles, and she smirked as the seven cars sparked recognition within her brain. Of course they'd all pick their favorites, though she could spot all the influences that belonged solely with her father. There was an orange Lamborghini; a black BMW; a white Audi; a silver Aston Martin; a red Ferrari; a deep-blue Jaguar; and at the end: a light purple Bugatti Veyron.

When her excitement settled somewhat she looked across to see her mother holding a gilded envelope in her hands.

Quirking an eyebrow at the elder as she turned the ostentatious package over in her hands, she clicked her tongue and commented, "The personal garage wasn't enough?"

When she pulled the key out and realization dawned on her with the scanning of the words scrawled across the page; her eyes went blurry, her fingers shaking.

"Mom, this is – It's _Victrola_."

Eve looked up to meet the elder's eyes, releasing a shaky breath, but all she saw was her mother's smile staring back at her.

"I couldn't. This was your place with Daddy, this is too special, it's – "

"Yours," her mother finished.

Throwing her arms around her mother, she held on tight as the tears ran freely down her cheeks.

"You realize you're screwed for my 21st, right?" Eve commented, laughing through the tears. "I mean, you'll have to start on the gifts right now."

Her mother's laughter made her smile uncontrollably, and she held the other ever tighter; she hadn't heard the sound in years.

Once she wished she'd bottled it so she'd never grow lonely, never have to go without.

Now she had no such desires.

Now she had her mother back.

-

When Blair Bass slept she dreamt of her husband; she dreamt of a life she never had, but still so desperately wanted.

She'd been tempted so many times, just to fall asleep and never wake up: to be with her husband for eternity.

The thought of leaving her daughter though stopped her, brought her back from that edge, every time.

It was always Eve.

She got her husband back and then lost him again all before her daughter had really been returned to her.

She was given mere moments with her husband, whereas she'd been granted a lifetime with their daughter.

Redemption came in different forms.

Their time would come, when they would be reunited.

For now, she was content to walk hand in hand with him by night; and by their daughter's side by day.

She felt him all around her; and she'd never once forget him.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He'd forgiven her, and she'd praised him.

And then he'd relinquished his parental rights to her; given her the chance to be the mother she never got the chance to be during those three long years.

He'd gifted her with the most precious thing in either of their lives; and the only way she'd be able to repay him was to be there when he wasn't.

It was bittersweet.

It _was_ redemption.

-

"Penny for your thoughts," Chris said, yawning as he readjusted his position next to the brunette he was nestled beside.

_A penny? They're worth a far piece more_; she thought wryly, unable to prevent the smirk from curving her lips.

Her gaze cut across the mantle to scan the images of her family: her Uncle Eric and Uncle Will, her Aunt Serena and Uncle Dan, her Uncle Nate and Vanessa; they were all positioned to watch over those below. And then her dark eyes shifted over to the framed photo of her father that sat on the bedside table next to where her mother lay sleeping. She smiled as she took in the sight: the original masterpieces for her stunning looks, each one half of her personality and heart.

"I don't think we get a choice in who we fall for," Eve whispered, smiling fondly, reminiscing at the thought. "I think we just _do_."

But when her eyes drifted back to her boyfriend, his breathing was even and regular, and she realized that he'd already drifted off. She savored the numbing weight of his arm around her, warming her skin, and moments later – for the first time in years – Eve Bass fell into a deep, easy sleep: the love of her family and the prospect of a new day, a second chance, awaiting her when she woke.

-

"**You're still so goddamned beautiful," he murmured. **

"**I've always loved you," she whispered.**

**He melted when he heard her lips carve out those words; old habits died hard.**

"**I know," he said quietly. "I just wished you'd loved yourself a little more."**

"**Let's do it this way, Chuck, alright? Let's pick one sentence out of all of the ones we should have said – the best, most important sentence – and let's say just that."**

**This was his Blair, he thought: romantic, and perfect and… the one he couldn't help but fall for.**

**And because he knew she was sinking in the quicksand of regret, just like him, he nodded, agreeing, "Okay. But I go first."**

"**I forgive you," Chuck whispered: a gift.**

"**Oh, Chuck," Blair said; and she gave him one right back. "She turned out absolutely perfect."**

**.**

_"In every conceivable manner, the family is a link to our past, a bridge to our future."_**  
_Alex Haley_**

The End.

* * *

A/N: the very end was inspired by a small section in 'Vanishing Acts', and the Chris/Eve part was inspired by a part in 'Keeping Faith'. I didn't necessarily want to use these to end it on, but they just fit too well not to, so I hope they were ok :)

Wow, so a year and ten days, and I'm finally finished this fic - apologies for all the delays over that time - I hope you enjoyed it :)

Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, alerting, favouriting and just generally supporting me in this fic – it means so so much to me!  
Hopefully it'll kick start more interest in my other stuff, haha ;)

Thanks again  
Steph  
xxx


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